Ulrich  Middeldorf 


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THE  TOUR 

OF 

DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

IN  SEARCH  OF 

THE  PICTURESQUE. 


Illustrated  faith  Original  Resigns  bir 

ALFRED  CROWQUILL. 


BOSTON:— ROBERTS  BROTHERS. 
1866. 


PREFACE. 


After  the  intimacy  which  has  so  long  and  happily 
subsisted  between  Dr.  Syntax  and  the  public,  the 
worthy  Doctor  would  be  fairly  entitled  to  claim  the 
privilege  of  an  old  friend,  and  to  walk  in  at  his 
pleasure,  without  preface  or  announcement, — but  he 
has  become  sportive  in  his  green  and  vigorous  old 
age, — he  has  formed  fashionable  acquaintance,  and 
adopted  modern  manners.  His  appearance  in  new 
decorations  and  fresh  company  would  seem  to  require 
a few  remarks. 

The  origin  of  Dr.  Syntax  is  well  known  to  the 
mature  portion  of  the  reading  public,  but  as  his 
acquaintance  will,  doubtless,  be  eagerly  sought  by 
many  of  more  recent  standing,  it  may  not  be  out  of 
place  here,  to  recapitulate  the  circumstances  atten- 
dant on  his  literary  birth. 

The  late  Mr.  Ackermann  was  the  publisher  of  a 
monthly  periodical,  called  The  Poetical  Magazine, 
to  which  the  celebrated  caricaturist,  Rowlandson, 


iy 


PREFACE. 


was  engaged  to  furnish  occasional  embellishments. 
It  was  determined,  by  way  of  giving  them  additional 
interest,  to  produce  a series  of  consecutive  illustra- 
tions of  some  one  subject. 

The  idea  of  a Torn*,  by  an  eccentric  Clergyman 
and  Schoolmaster,  enthusiastically  in  love  with 
letters  and  the  arts,  was  decided  on,  and  the  plates 
were  executed  in  monthly  succession. 

Mr.  Combe  was,  at  that  period,  engaged  as  a con- 
tributor to  the  Magazine,  and,  as  each  plate  was 
finished,  he  adapted  a narration  in  verse  to  it,  whioh 
was  published,  with  the  plate,  in  the  next  month’s 
number.  The  artist  and  the  poet  worked  indepen- 
dently of  each  other,  without  any  preconcerted  plan, 
and  in  entire  ignorance  of  each  other’s  progress  or 
intentions.  The  whole  was  afterwards  published  as 
a volume,  and  thus  was  produced  a work  which 
excited  more  attention,  and  has  enjoyed  a greater 
degree  of  public  favour,  than  was  ever  bestowed  on 
any  other  publication  of  its  class. 

The  life  of  the  talented  author  of  Doctor  Syntax 
was  not  more  singular  for  the  dissipation  which 
marked  the  commencement  of  his  career,  than  for 
the  extraordinary  application  which  characterised  his 
maturer  years,  and  the  lateness  of  the  period  at  which 
he  attained  the  zenith  of  his  popularity ; and  it  is 


PREFACE. 


V 


presumed  that  a few  particulars  of  his  history  will 
he  acceptable. 

William  Combe  was  born  of  parents  in  good 
circumstances,  who  placed  him  at  Eton  School,  and 
in  due  time  afterwards  sent  him  to  Oxford.  His 
uncle,  a Mr.  Alexander,  an  Alderman  of  London, 
left  him  sixteen  thousand  pounds,  on  the  receipt  of 
which  he  determined  to  study  the  law.  With  this 
view  he  left  the  university,  entered  himself  of  the 
Temple,  and  was  called  to  the  bar.  His  handsome 
person,  however,  and  mental  accomplishments  soon 
led  him  into  circles  of  society  and  a course  of  ex- 
penditure far  beyond  his  means,  and  ultimately  in- 
volved him  in  the  very  depths  of  distress.  In  his 
days  of  prosperity,  the  splendour  of  his  dress  and 
menage  in  general,  together  with  his  highly  aristo- 
cratic deportment,  had  gained  him  the  appellation  of 
Duke  Combe. 

His  emergencies  at  length  drove  him  to  enlist  as  a 
soldier,  and  at  Wolverhampton  ho  was  recognised  by 
an  old  acquaintance,  crawling  through  the  streets, 
after  a long  march,  dusty  and  lame,  in  quest  of  his 
quarters.  His  friend  exclaimed,  “ Is  it  possible  that 
I behold  you,  Combe,  and  bearing  a knapsack  ? ” 
“Pooh  !”  said  the  fallen  hero,  “a  philosopher  ought 
to  bear  anything.  ” At  the  public-house  at  which  he 


VI 


PREFACE. 


was  billeted,  his  literary  acquirements  excited  such 
astonishment  that  the  house  was  nightly  filled  with 
customers  who  came  to  wonder  at  the  soldier  who 
knew  Greek.  Roger  Kemble  was  then  at  the  same 
town,  with  his  strolling  company,  and  gave  him  a 
benefit,  which  furnished  the  means  of  obtaining  his 
discharge.  On  this  occasion  he  spoke  an  address,  in 
which  it  was  intimated  that  he  would  solve  the 
mystery  of  his  extraordinary  situation.  After  notic- 
ing the  various  rumours  respecting  him,  he  concluded 
thus  : — “Now,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  I am  going  to 
tell  you  what  I am — I am,  ladies  and  gentlemen — • 
your  most  grateful  and  humble  servant.  ” So  saying, 
he  disappeared.  Soon  after  this,  an  old  college  ac- 
quaintance found  him  officiating  as  under-waiter 
at  a tavern  in  a Welsh  watering-place.  He  subse- 
quently entered  into  the  French  army ; and,  at  an- 
other period,  his  exigencies  imparted  such  charms  to 
the  pots  of  a French  monastery,  that  he  was  about  to 
assume  the  cowl.  While  the  monks  were  effecting 
his  conversion,  and  during  the  requisite  probation, 
however,  he  grew  in  good  case,  and  other  prospects 
opening  to  him,  he  came  to  London  again.  Here  he 
obtained  employment  among  the  booksellers,  and 
attached  himself  to  literary  pursuits  altogether.  He 
married  twice.  Of  his  first  wife  little  is  known  : his 


PREFACE. 


Vll 


second  was  a sister  of  Conway,  the  painter.  She  is 
described  to  have  been  an  amiable  and  affectionate 
woman,  who,  by  her  praiseworthy  conduct,  materially 
alleviated  the  distress  which  his  improvidence  fre- 
quently brought  on  him.  In  the  year  1806,  and  for 
some  time  after,  he  was  employed  on  the  Times 
Newspaper. 

In  1808  his  pecuniary  difficulties  brought  him  to 
the  King’s  Bench,  where  he  passed  the  last  fifteen 
years  of  his  life,  and  ultimately  died  in  the  year 
1823,  at  about  the  age  of  eighty. 

fie  became  so  enamoured  of  his  confinement,  that 
when,  in  his  latter  years,  his  friends  offered  to  effect 
an  arrangement  for  his  liberation,  he  declined  their 
assistance,  on  account  of  the  trouble  it  would  give 
him ; observing,  that  if  he  were  again  at  liberty,  and 
established  in  the  most  pleasant  spot  round  London, 
he  should  only  feel  perplexed  by  having  to  choose 
his  walk. 

At  that  period  of  advanced  life  when  the  weight  of 
years  usually  hears  down  the  elasticity  of  the  mind, 
he  retained  all  that  spring  of  intellect  which  charac- 
terised the  promptitude  of  his  earlier  days,  and  when 
infirmities  added  their  load  to  the  pressure  of  old 
age,  his  mental  strength  still  appeared  equal  to  the 
burden. 


Till 


PREFACE. 


It  is  singular  that  a man  who  wrote  so  much,  and 
so  well,  as  Mr.  Combe,  should  not  have  affixed  his 
name  to  his  productions  ; but,  with  the  exception  of 
one  of  the  later  editions  of  Dr.  Syntax,  they  were 
all  published  anonymously. 

Besides  innumerable  contributions  to  periodicals 
and  other  works,  he  wrote  Clifton,  a Poem — A Satire 
on  Sir  James  Wright — the  Diaboliad,  a severe  Satire 
on  many  of  the  most  noted  personages  of  the  day — 
Lord  Lyttelton’s  Letters — The  Devil  upon  Two  Sticks 
in  London — History  of  the  Thames — A Letter  to  the 
Duchess  of  Devonshire  on  Female  Education — Letters 
from  an  Italian  Nun  to  an  English  Nobleman,  pro- 
fessedly a translation  from  Rousseau — The  Tour  of 
Doctor  Syntax  in  search  of  the  Picturesque — and, 
stimulated  by  its  extraordinary  success,  second  and 
third  parts  to  it — Westminster  Abbey  ^-History  of 
Oxford  — Dance  of  Death  — History  of  the  Public 
Schools  of  England — Dance  of  Life — Johnny  Quae 
Genus — Amelia’s  Letters,  &c. 

In  his  Diaboliad  is  an  anecdote  of  an  Irish  noble- 
man and  his  son  who  quarrelled,  and  the  hatred 
between  them  grew  so  intense  that  the  father  chal- 
lenged the  son  to  fight  a duel.  This  the  latter  refused, 
alleging  that  he  did  so,  not  because  the  challenger 
was  his  father,  but  because  he  was  not  a gentleman. 


PREFACE. 


IX 


At  about  the  age  of  sixty-five  he  formed  an  ac« 
quaint ance  with,  and  was  constantly  and  solely  after- 
wards employed  by,  the  late  Mr.  Ackermann,  the 
money  side  of  whose  ledger  would,  if  evidence  were 
wanting,  furnish  a constructive  record  of  the  period 
of  his  death ; for,  as  that  gentleman  significantly 
observed,  “he  ceased  not  to  draw  till  he  ceased  to 
breathe.’*  Such  was  the  confidence  that  subsisted 
between  them,  that  no  contract  was  ever  made  as 
to  the  price  of  Mr.  Combe’s  labours.  “Send  me  a 
twenty  pounder,”  or  “ a thirty  pounder,”  as  the  want 
might  be,  was  all  that  ever  passed.  He  was  supplied 
liberally,  his  works  were  profitable,  and  the  publisher 
satisfied. 

The  rules  of  the  King’s  Bench  were  jocularly 
asserted,  by  one  of  the  judges,  to  reach  to  the  East 
Indies.  In  Mr.  Combe’s  case  they  certainly  extended 
to  the  Strand  ; for,  during  the  earlier  portion  of  his 
residence  within  them,  he  was  a frequent  visitor  at 
Mr.  Ackermann’s  table,  where,  though  he  manifested 
considerable  epicurism  in  his  eating,  his  only  beverage 
was  water.  It  was  about  this  time  that  he  wrote 
those  humorous  accompaniments  to  the  unrivalled 
pencil  of  Rowlandson,  which  assumed  the  name  of 
“ Doctor  Syntax’s  Tour  in  Search  of  the 
Picturesque,”  and  form  the  subject  of  the  present 
volume. 


X 


PREFACE. 


With  the  setting  sun  of  Rowlandson,  the  taste 
for  his  broad,  luxuriant,  but  too  exaggerated  vein  of 
caricature  has  also  gone  down ; and,  in  this  respect, 
the  public  may  be  said  to  have  stepped  over  the  old 
style ; whilst  the  facilities  afforded  by  the  art  of 
engraving  on  wood,  and  its  rapid  improvement 
within  the  last  few  years,  have  opened  to  the  artist 
a new  field,  and  to  the  world  a new  pleasure. 

The  task  of  qualifying  Doctor  Syntax  for  a re- 
appearance in  society,  in  a costume  of  this,  the  ap- 
proved modern  cut,  has  been  confided  to  the  ingenious 
and  talented  Alfred  Crowquill,  who,  it  is  hoped, 
will  be  deemed  to  have  brought  out  his  protege  with 
eclat,  and  to  have  shown  that  his  efforts,  though 
designed  expressly  for  the  gay,  have  been  also  well 
adapted  for  the  graver. 


TOUR 


IN 

SEARCH  OE  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


CANTO  I. 


HE  school  was  done, 
the  bus’ness  o’er, 
When,  tir’d  of  Greek 
and  Latin  lore, 
Good  Syntax  sought 
his  easy  chair, 

And  sat  in  calm  com- 
posure there. 

His  wife  was  to  a neighbour  gone, 

To  hear  the  chit-chat  of  the  town  ; 

And  left  him  the  unfrequent  power 
Of  brooding  through  a quiet  hour. 


2 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Thus,  while  he  sat,  a busy  train 
Of  images  besieged  his  brain. 

Of  church-preferment  he  had  none  ; 

Nay,  all  his  hope  of  that  was  gone  : 

He  felt  that  he  content  must  be 
With  drudging  in  a curacy. 

Indeed,  on  ev’ry  Sabbath-day, 

Through  eight  long  miles  he  took  his  way, 
To  preach,  to  grumble,  and  to  pray  ; 

To  cheer  the  good,  to  warn  the  sinner, 
And,  if  he  got  it, — eat  a dinner  : 

To  bury  these,  to  christen  those, 

And  marry  such  fond  folks  as  chose 
To  charge  the  tenor  of  their  life, 

And  risk  the  matrimonial  strife. 

Thus  were  his  weekly  journeys  made, 
’Neath  summer  suns  and  wintry  shade  ; 
And  all  his  gains,  it  did  appear, 

Were  only  thirty  pounds  a year. 

Besides,  th’  augmenting  taxes  press, 

To  aid  expense  and  add  distress  : 

Mutton  and  beef,  and  bread  and  beer, 

And  ev’rything  was  grown  so  dear  ; 

The  boys,  too,  always  prone  to  eat, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  3 

Delighted  less  in  books  than  meat ; 

So  that,  when  holy  Christmas  came, 

His  earnings  ceas’d  to  be  the  same, 

And  now,  alas  ! could  do  no  more 
Than  keep  the  wolf  without  the  door. 

E’en  birch,  the  pedant  master’s  boast, 

Was  so  increas’d  in  worth  and  cost, 

That  oft,  prudentially  beguil’d, 

To  save  the  rod,  he  spar’d  the  child. 

Thus,  if  the  times  refus’d  to  mend, 

He  to  his  school  must  put  an  end. 

How  hard  his  lot ! how  blind  his  fate  ! 

What  shall  he  do  to  mend  his  state  ? 

Thus  did  poor  Syntax  ruminate  ; 

When,  as  the  vivid  meteors  fly, 

And  instant  light  the  gloomy  sky, 

A sudden  thought  across  him  came, 

And  told  the  way  to  wealth  and  fame  ; 

And,  as  th’  expanding  vision  grew 
Wider  and  wider  to  his  view, 

The  painted  fancy  did  beguile 
His  woe-worn  phiz  into  a smile  : 

But,  while  he  pac’d  the  room  around, 

Or  stood  immers’d  in  thought  profound, 

B 2 


4 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  Doctor,  ’midst  his  rumination, 

Was  waken’d  by  a visitation 

Which  troubles  many  a poor  man’s  life — 

The  visitation  of  his  wife. 

Good  Mrs.  Syntax  was  a lady, 

Ten  years,  perhaps,  beyond  her  hey-day  ; 
But  though  the  blooming  charms  had  flown, 
That  grac’d  her  youth,  it  still  was  known 
The  love  of  power  she  never  lost, 

As  Syntax  found  it  to  his  cost ; 

For  as  her  words  were  used  to  flow, 

He  but  replied  or  yes  or  no. 

Whene’er  enrag’d  by  some  disaster, 

She’d  shake  the  boys  and  cuff  the  master ; 
Nay,  to  avenge  the  slightest  wrong, 

She  could  employ  both  arms  and  tongue  ; 
And,  if  we  list  to  country  tales, 

She  sometimes  would  enforce  her  nails. 

Her  face  was  red,  her  form  was  fat, 

A round-about,  and  rather  squat ; 

And  when  in  angry  humour  stalking, 

Was  like  a dumpling  set  a-walking. 

’Twas  not  the  custom  of  this  spouse 
To  suffer  long  a quiet  house  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


5 


She  was  among  those  busy  wives, 

Who  hurry-scurry  through  their  lives  ; 
And  make  amends  for  fading  beauty 
By  telling  husbands  of  their  duty. 

’Twas  at  this  moment,  when,  inspir’d, 
And  by  his  new  ambition  fir’d, 

The  pious  man  his  hands  uprear’d, 

That  Mrs.  Syntax  re-appear’d : 

Amaz’d  she  look’d,  and  loud  she  shriek’d, 
Or,  rather  like  a pig  she  squeak’d, 

To  see  her  humble  husband  dare 
Thus  quit  his  sober  ev’ning  chair, 

And  pace,  with  varying  steps,  about, 

Now  in  the  room,  and  now  without. 

At  first,  she  did  not  find  her  tongue, 

(A  thing  which  seldom  happen’d  long,) 
But  soon  that  organ  grew  unquiet, 

To  ask  the  cause  of  all  this  riot. 

The  Doctor  smil’d,  and  thus  address’d 
The  secrets  of  his  lab’ring  breast — 

“ Sit  down,  my  love,  my  dearest  dear, 
Nay,  prithee  do,  and  patient  hear  ; 

Let  me,  for  once,  throughout  my  life, 


6 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Keceive  this  kindness  from  my  wife  ; 
It  will  oblige  me  so  : — in  troth, 

It  will,  my  dear,  oblige  us  both  ; 


For  such  a plan  has  come  athwart  me, 

Which  some  kind  sprite  from  Heav’n  has  brought 
That  if  you  will  your  counsels  join,  [me, 

To  aid  this  golden  scheme  of  mine, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  7 

New  days  will  come — new  times  appear, 

And  teeming  plenty  crown  the  year : 

We  then  on  dainty  bits  shall  dine, 

And  change  onr  home-brew’d  ale  for  wine  : 

On  summer  days,  to  take  the  air, 

We’ll  put  onr  Grizzle  to  a chair  ; 

While  you,  in  silks  and  muslins  fine, 

The  grocer’s  wife  shall  far  outshine, 

And  neighb’ring  folks  be  forc’d  to  own 
In  this  fair  town  you  give  the  ton.” 

“ Oh  ! tell  me,”  cried  the  smiling  dame, 

“ Tell  me  this  golden  road  to  fame  : 

You  charm  my  heart,  you  quite  delight  it.” — 
“ Fll  make  a Tour — and  then  Pll  write  it. 
You  well  know  what  my  pen  can  do, 

And  I’ll  employ  my  pencil  too  : — 

I’ll  ride  and  write , and  sketch,  and  print , 

And  thus  create  a real  mint ; 

I’ll  prose  it  here,  I’ll  verse  it  there, 

And  picturesque  it  ev’rywhere  : 

I’ll  do  what  all  have  done  before  ; 

I think  I shall — and  somewhat  more  : 

At  Doctor  Pompous  give  a look  ; 

He  made  his  fortune  by  a book  ; 


8 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  if  my  volume  does  not  beat  it, 

When  I return  I’ll  fry  and  eat  it. 

Next  week  the  boys  will  all  go  home, 
And  I shall  have  a month  to  come. 

My  clothes,  my  cash,  my  all  prepare  ; 
While  Balph  looks  to  the  grizzle  mare. 
Tho’  wond’ring  folks  may  laugh  and  scoff, 
By  this  day  fortnight  I’ll  be  off ; 

And  when  old  Time  a month  has  run, 
Our  bus’ness,  Lovey,  will  be  done. 

I will  in  search  of  fortune  roam, 

While  you  enjoy  yourself  at  home.” 

The  story  told,  the  Doctor  eas’d 
Of  his  grand  plan,  and  Madam  pleas’d, 
No  pains  were  spar’d  by  night  or  day 
To  set  him  forward  on  his  way : 

She  trimm’d  his  coat — she  mended  all 
His  various  clothing,  great  and  small ; 
And  better  still,  a purse  was  found 
With  twenty  notes,  of  each  a pound.* 
Thus  furnish’d,  and  in  full  condition 
To  prosper  in  his  expedition  ; 

* In  circulation  at  the  time. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


At  length,  the  ling’ring  moment  came, 
That  gave  the  dawn  of  wealth  and  fame. 
Incurious  Ralph,  exact  at  four, 


Led  Grizzle,  saddled,  to  the  door ; 

And  soon,  with  more  than  common  state, 


10 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  Doctor  stood  before  the  gate. 

Behind  him  was  his  faithful  wife  ; — 

“ One  more  embrace,  my  dearest  life  ! ” 

Then  his  grey  palfrey  he  bestrode, 

And  gave  a nod,  and  off  he  rode. 

“ Good  luck  ! good  luck  ! ” she  loudly  cried  ; 
“ Vale ! 0 Vale 1”  he  replied. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


11 


CANTO  II. 

HE  farewell  cere- 
mony o’er, 

Madam  went  in  and 
bang’d  the  door  : 

No  woful  tear  bedew’d 
her  eye, 

Nor  did  she  heave  a 
single  sigh  ; 

But  soon  began  her  daily  trade, 

To  chide  the  man  and  scold  the  maid  ; 

While  Syntax,  with  his  scheme  besotted, 

Along  the  village  gently  trotted. 

The  folks  on  daily  labour  bent, 

Whistled  and  caroll’d  as  they  went ; 

But  as  the  Doctor  pass’d  along, 

Bow’d  down  their  heads,  and  ceas’d  their  song. 
He  gravely  nodded  to  the  people  ; 

Then  looking  upwards  to  the  steeple, 


VI 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


He  thus,  in  mutt’ring  tones,  express’d 
The  disappointments  of  his  breast. 

“ That  thankless  parent,  Mother  Church, 
Has  ever  left  me  in  the  lurch  ; 

And,  while  so  many  fools  are  seen 
To  strut  a Rector  or  a Dean, 

Who  live  in  ease,  and  find  good  cheer 
On  ev’ry  day  of  ev’ry  year, 

So  small  her  share  of  true  discerning, 

She  turn’d  her  back  on  all  my  learning. 

I ’ve  in  her  vineyard  labour’d  hard, 

And  what  has  been  my  lean  reward  ? 

I ’ve  dug  the  ground,  while  some  rich  Yicar 
Press’d  the  ripe  grape,  and  drank  the  liquor 
I feed  the  flock,  while  others  eat, 

The  mutton’s  nice,  delicious  meat ; 

I’ve  kept  the  hive,  and  made  the  honey, 
While  the  drones  pocketed  the  money. 

But  now,  on  better  things  intent, 

On  far  more  grateful  labours  bent, 

New  prospects  open  to  my  view ; 

So,  thankless  Mother  Church,  adieu  ! ” 

Thus,  having  said  his  angry  say, 

Syntax  proceeded  on  his  way. 


IN  SEARCH  OP  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


13 


The  morning  lark  ascends  on  high, 
And  with  its  music  greets  the  sky  ; 

The  blackbird  whistles,  and  the  thrush 
Warbles  his  wild  notes  in  the  bush  ; 
While  ev’ry  hedge  and  ev’ry  tree 
Resound  with  vocal  minstrelsy. 

But  Syntax,  wrapt  in  thought  profound, 
Is  deaf  to  each  enliv’ning  sound  : 
Revolving  many  a golden  scheme, 

And  yielding  to  the  pleasing  dream, 

The  reins  hung  loosely  from  his  hand  ; 
While  Grizzle,  senseless  of  command, 
Unguided,  pac’d  the  road  along, 

Nor  knew  if  it  were  right  or  wrong. 
Through  the  deep  vale,  and  up  the  hill, 
By  rapid  stream  or  tinkling  rill, 

Grizzle  her  thoughtful  master  bore, 
Who,  counting  future  treasure  o’er, 

And,  on  his  weighty  projects  bent, 
Observ’d  not  whither  Grizzle  went. 

Thus  did  kind  Fancy’s  soothing  power 
Cheat  him  of  many  a fleeting  hour  ; 
Nor  did  he  know  the  pacing  Sun 
Had  half  his  daily  circuit  run. 


14 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Sweet,  airy  sprite,  that  can  bestow 
A pleasing  respite  to  our  woe  ; 

That  can  corroding  care  beguile, 

And  make  the  woe-worn  face  to  smile  ; 
But,  ah  ! too  soon  the  vision  passes, 
Confounded  by  a pack  of  asses  ; 

The  donkeys  bray’d  ; and,  lo  ! the  sound 
Awak’d  him  from  his  thought  profound  ; 
And  as  he  star’d,  and  look’d  around, 

He  said — or  else  he  seem’d  to  say — 

“ I find  that  I have  lost  my  way. 

Oh  ! what  a wide  expanse  I see, 

Without  a wood,  without  a tree  ! 

No  one  at  hand,  no  house  is  near, 

To  tell  the  way,  or  give  good  cheer  ; 

For  now  a sign  would  be  a treat, 

To  tell  us  we  might  drink  and  eat ; 

But  sure  there  is  not  in  my  sight 
The  sign  of  any  living  wight ; 

And  all  around  upon  this  common 
I see  not  either  man  or  woman  ; 

Nor  dogs  to  bark,  nor  cocks  to  crow, 

Nor  sheep  to  bleat,  nor  herds  to  low  : 
Nay,  if  these  asses  did  not  bray, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  15 

And  thus  some  signs  of  life  betray, 

I well  might  think  that  I were  hurl’d 
Into  some  sad,  unpeopled  world. 

How  could  I come,  misguided  wretch  ! 

To  where  I cannot  make  a sketch  ! ” 

Thus  as  he  ponder’d  what  to  do, 

A guide-post  rose  within  his  view  ; 

And,  when  the  pleasing  shape  he  spied, 

He  prick’d  his  steed,  and  thither  hied  ; 

But  some  unheeding,  senseless  wight, 

Who  to  fair  learning  owed  a spite, 

Had  ev’ry  letter’d  mark  defac’d, 

Which  once  its  several  pointers  grac’d. 

The  mangled  post  thus  long  had  stood, 

An  uninforming  piece  of  wood ; 

Like  other  guides,  as  some  folks  say, 

Who  neither  lead,  nor  tell  the  way. 

The  Sun,  as  hot  as  he  was  bright, 

Had  got  to  his  meridian  height ; 

’Twas  sultry  noon — for  not  a breath 
Of  cooling  zephyr  fann’d  the  heath  ; 

When  Syntax  cried — “ ’Tis  all  in  vain 
To  find  my  way  across  the  plain  ; 


l6  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

So  here  my  fortune  I will  try, 

And  wait  till  some  one  passes  by  : 

Upon  that  bank  awhile  I’ll  sit, 

And  let  poor  Grizzle  graze  a bit ; 

But;  as  my  time  shall  not  be  lost, 

I ’ll  make  a drawing  of  the  post ; 

And,  tho’  a flimsy  taste  may  flout  it, 

There’s  something  picturesque  about  it : 

’Tis  rude  and  rough,  without  a gloss, 

And  is  well  covered  o’er  with  moss  ; 

And  I’ve  a right — (who  dares  deny  it  ?) 

To  place  yon  group  of  asses  by  it. 

Ay  ! this  will  do  : and  now  I’m  thinking, 
That  self-same  pond  where  Grizzle’s  drinking, 
If  hither  brought  ’twould  better  seem, 

And,  faith,  I’ll  turn  it  to  a stream : 

I ’ll  make  this  flat  a shaggy  ridge, 

And  o’er  the  water  throw  a bridge  : 

I ’ll  do  as  other  sketchers  do — 

Put  anything  into  the  view  ; 

And  any  object  recollect, 

To  add  a grace,  and  give  effect. 

Thus,  though  from  truth  I haply  err, 

The  scene  preserves  its  character. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


17 


What  man  of  taste  my  right  will  doubt, 
To  put  things  in,  or  leave  them  out  ? 
>Tis  more  than  right,  it  is  a duty, 

If  we  consider  landscape  beauty : 

He  ne’er  will  as  an  artist  shine, 

Who  copies  Nature  line  by  line  ; 
Whoe’er  from  Nature  takes  a view, 
Must  copy  and  improve  her  too. 

To  heighten  every  work  of  art, 

Fancy  should  take  an  active  part : 

Thus  I (which  few,  I think,  can  boast) 
Have  made  a Landscape  of  a Post . 

^feo  far,  so  good — but  no  one  passes, 
No  living  creature  but  these  asses  ; 
And,  should  I sit  and  hear  them  bray, 

I were  as  great  a beast  as  they : 

So  I ’ll  be  off ; from  yonder  down 
I may,  perhaps,  descry  a town ; 

Or  some  tall  spire  among  the  trees 
May  give  my  way-worn  spirits  ease.” 

Grizzle  again  he  soon  bestrode, 

And  wav’d  his  whip,  and  off  he  rode  : 
c 


18 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  all  around  was  dingy  green, 

No  spire  arose,  no  town  was  seen. 

At  length  he  reach’d  a beaten  road  ; 

How  great  a joy  the  sight  bestow’d  ! 

So  on  he  went,  in  pleasant  mood, 

And  shortly  gain’d  a stately  wood, 

Where  the  refreshing  zephyrs  play’d, 

And  cool’d  the  air  beneath  the  shade. 

Oh  ! what  a change,  how  great  the  treat, 
To  fanning  breeze  from  sultry  heat ! 

But,  ah  ! how  false  is  human  joy  ! 

When  least  we  think  it,  ills  annoy  : 

For  now,  with  fierce  impetuous  rush,  ^ 
Three  ruffians  issued  from  a bush  ; 

One  Grizzle  stopp’d,  and  seiz’d  the  reins, 
While  they  all  threat  the  Doctors  brains. 
Poor  Syntax,  trembling  with  affright, 
Desists  not  such  superior  might, 

But  yields  him  to  their  savage  pleasure, 
And  gives  his  purse,  with  all  its  treasure. 
Fearing,  howe’er,  the  Doctor’s  view 
Might  be  to  follow  and  pursue, 

The  cunning  robbers  wisely  counted 
That  he,  of  course,  should  be  dismounted ; 


\ 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  19 

And  still  that  it  would  safer  be, 

If  he  were  fasten’d  to  a tree. 

Thus  to  a tree  they  quickly  bound  him  ; 

The  cruel  cords  went  round  and  round  him  ; 
And,  haying  of  all  power  bereft  him, 

They  tied  him  fast — and  then  they  left  him. 


c 2 


20 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  III. 

Y the  roadside,  within 
the  wood, 

In  this  sad  state  poor 
Syntax  stood ; 

His  bosom  heav’d  with 
many  a sigh, 

And  the  tears  stood 
in  either  eye. 

What  could  he  do  ? — he  durst  not  bawl ; 

His  noise  the  robbers  might  recall ; 

The  villains  might  again  surround  him, 

And  hang  him  up  where  they  had  bound  him. 
Sure  never  was  an  hapless  wight 
In  more  uncomfortable  plight : 

Nor  was  this  all ; his  pate  was  bare, 

Unshelter’d  by  one  lock  of  hair  ; 

For  when  the  sturdy  robbers  took  him, 

His  hat  and  peruke  both  forsook  him. 


Page  20. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  21 

The  insect  world  were  on  the  wing, 

Whose  talent  is  to  buzz  and  sting  ; 

And  soon  his  bare- worn  head  they  sought, 

By  instinct  led,  by  nature  taught ; 

And  dug  their  little  forks  within 
The  tender  texture  of  his  skin. 

He  raged  and  roar’d,  but  all  in  vain, 

No  means  he  found  to  ease  his  pain : 

The  cords,  which  to  the  tree  had  tied  him, 

All  help  from  either  hand  denied  him : 

He  shook  his  head,  he  writh’d  his  face 
With  painful  look,  with  sad  grimace, 

And  thus  he  spoke  his  hapless  case  ! 

“ Ah  ! miserable  man,”  he  cried, 

" What  perils  do  my  course  betide  ! 

In  this  sad  melancholy  state, 

Must  I,  alas  ! impatient  wait, 

Till  some  kind  soul  shall  haply  find  me, 

And  with  his  friendly  hands  unbind  me  ? 

Nay,  I throughout  the  night  may  stay, 

’Tis  such  an  unfrequented  way : 

Tho’  what  with  hunger,  thirst,  and  fright, 

I ne’er  shall  last  throughout  the  night ; 


22 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  could  I e’en  these  ills  survive, 

The  flies  will  eat  me  up  alive. 

What  mad  ambition  made  me  roam  ? 

Ah  ! wherefore  did  I quit  my  home  ? 

For  there  I liv’d,  remote  from  harm  ; 

My  meals  were  good,  my  house  was  warm ; 
And,  though  I was  not  free  from  strife, 
With  other  ills  that  trouble  life, 

Yet  I had  leam’d  full  well  to  bear 
The  nightly  scold,  the  daily  care  ; 

And,  after  many  a season  pass’d, 

I should  have  found  repose  at  last : 

Fate  would  have  sign’d  my  long  release, 
And  Syntax  would  have  died  in  peace  ; 

Nor  thus  been  robb’d,  and  tied,  and  beaten, 
And  all  alive  by  insects  eaten.” 

But  while  he  thus  at  Fate  was  railing, 
And  Fortune’s  angry  frown  bewailing, 

A dog’s  approaching  bark  he  hears  ; 

’Twas  sweet  as  music  to  his  ears, 

And  soon  a sure  relief  appears  ; 

For,  tho’  it  bore  that  gen’ral  form, 

Which  oft,  at  home,  foretold  a storm, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  23 

It  now  appear’d  an  angel’s  shape, 

That  promis’d  him  a quick  escape  : 

Nor  did  La  Mancha’s  yal’rous  Knight 
Feel  greater  pleasure  at  the  sight, 

When,  overwhelm’d  with  love  and  awe, 

His  Dulcinea  first  he  saw  : 

For  on  two  trotting  palfreys  came, 

And  each  one  bore  a comely  dame  : 

They  started  as  his  form  they  view  ; 

The  horses  also  started  too  : 

The  dog  with  insult  seem’d  to  treat  him, 

And  look’d  as  if  he  long’d  to  eat  him. 

In  piteous  tones  he  humbly  pray’d 
They’d  turn  aside,  and  give  him  aid  ; 

When  each  leap’d  quickly  from  her  steed, 

To  join  in  charitable  deed. 

They  drew  their  knives  to  cut  the  noose, 

And  let  the  mournful  pris’ner  loose  ; 

With  kindest  words  his  fate  bewail, 

While  grateful  Syntax  tells  his  tale. 

The  rustic  matrons  soothe  his  grief, 

Nor  offer,  but  afford  relief ; 

And,  turning  from  the  beaten  road, 

Their  well-lin’d  panniers  they  unload  ; 


24 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


When  soon  upon  the  bank  appear’d 
A sight  his  fainting  spirits  cheer’d : 

They  spread  the  fare  with  cheerful  grace, 
And  gave  a banquet  to  the  place. 

Most  haply,  too,  as  they  untied  him, 

He  saw  his  hat  and  wig  beside  him  : 

So,  thus  bewigg’d  and  thus  behatted, 
Down  on  the  grass  the  Doctor  squatted  ; 
When  he  uplifted  either  eye, 

With  grateful  accents  to  the  sky. 

“ ’Tis  thus,”  he  humbly  said,  “ we  read 
In  sacred  books  of  heavenly  deed ; 

And  thus  I find,  in  my  distress, 

The  Manna  of  the  Wilderness  : 

’Tis  hermit’s  fare  ; but  thanks  to  Heaven, 
And  those  kind  souls  by  whom  ’tis  given.” 
’Tis  true  that  bread,  and  curds,  and  fruit, 
Do  with  the  pious  hermits  suit ; 

But  Syntax  surely  was  mistaken 
To  think  their  meals  partake  of  bacon  ; 

Or,  that  those  reverend  men  regale, 

As  our  good  Doctors  do — with  ale  ; 

And  these  kind  dames,  in  nothing  loth, 
Took  care  that  he  partook  of  both. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  25 

At  length  ’twas  time  to  bid  adieu, 

And  each  their  different  way  pursue  : 

A kind  farewell,  a kiss  as  kind, 

He  gave  them  both  with  heart  and  mind  ; 
Then  off  he  trudg’d,  and,  as  he  walk’d, 

Thus  to  himself  the  Parson  talk’d  ; 

“ ’Tis  well,  I think,  it  is  no  worse, 

For  I have  only  lost  my  purse  : 

With  all  their  cruelty  and  pains, 

The  rogues  have  got  but  trifling  gains  ; 

Poor  four-and-fourpence  is  the  measure 
Of  all  their  mighty  pilfer’d  treasure  ; 

For  haply  there  was  no  divining 
I’da  snug  pocket  in  my  lining  ; 

And,  thanks  to  Spousy,  ev’ry  note 
Was  well  sew’d  up  within  my  coat. 

But  where  is  Grizzle  ? — Never  mind  her  ; 

I’ll  have  her  cried,  and  soon  shall  find  her.” 
Thus  he  pursued  the  winding  way, 

Big  with  the  evils  of  the  day  ; 

Though  the  good  Doctor  kept  in  view 
The  favour  of  its  blessings  too. 

Nor  had  he  pac’d  it  half  an  hour, 

Before  he  saw  a parish  tow’r, 


26 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  soon,  with  sore  fatigue  opprest, 

An  inn  receiv’d  him  as  its  guest. 

But  still  his  mind,  with  anxious  care, 
Ponder’d  upon  his  wand’ring  mare  ; 

He,  therefore,  sent  the  bellman  round, 

To  see  if  Grizzle  might  be  found. 

Grizzle,  ungrateful  to  her  master, 

And  careless  of  his  foul  disaster, 

Left  him  tied  up,  and  took  her  way, 

In  hopes  to  meet  with  corn  or  hay  ; 

But,  as  that  did  not  come  to  pass, 

She  sought  a meadow  full  of  grass  : 

The  farmer  in  the  meadow  found  her, 

And  order’d  John,  his  man,  to  pound  her. 
Now  John  was  one  of  those  droll  folk, 

Who  oft  take  mischief  for  a joke  : 

And  thought  ’twould  make  the  master  stare, 
When  he  again  beheld  his  mare, 

(Perhaps  the  gem’man  might  be  shockt) 

To  find  her  ready  cropt  and  dockt : 

At  all  events,  he  play’d  his  fun  : 

No  sooner  was  it  said  than  done. 

But  Grizzle  was  a patient  beast, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  27 

And  minded  nought  if  she  could  feast : 

Like  many  others,  prone  to  think 
The  best  of  life  was  meat  and  drink, 

Who  feel  to-day  nor  care  nor  sorrow, 

If  they  are  sure  to  feast  to-morrow : 


Thus  Grizzle,  as  she  pac’d  around 
The  purlieu  of  the  barren  pound, 


28 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


In  hungry  mood  might  seem  to  neigh — 

“ If  I had  water,  corn,  and  hay, 

I should  not  thus  my  fate  bewail, 

Nor  mourn  the  loss  of  ears  or  tail.” 

In  the  meantime,  securely  hous’d, 

The  Doctor  booz’d  it,  and  carous’d, 

The  Hostess  spread  her  fairest  cheer, 

Her  best  beef-steak,  her  strongest  beer  ; 

And  sooth’d  him  with  her  winning  chat, 

Of — “ Pray  eat  this — and  now  take  that. 
Your  Bev’rence,  after  all  your  fright, 

Wants  meat  and  drink  to  set  you  right.” 

His  Bev’rence  prais’d  the  golden  rule, 

Nor  did  he  let  his  victuals  cool ; 

And,  having  drunk  his  liquor  out, 

He  took  a turn  to  look  about. 

When  to  the  folks  about  the  door, 

He  told  the  dismal  story  o’er, 

The  country-people  on  him  gaz’d, 

And  heard  his  perils  all  amaz’d  : 

How  the  thieves  twin’d  the  cords  around  him 
How  to  a tree  the  villains  bound  him  ! 

What  angels  came  to  his  relief, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  29 

To  loose  his  bones,  and  soothe  his  grief  ! 

His  loss  of  cash,  and  what  was  worse, 

His  saddle,  saddle-bags,  and  horse  ! 

Thus,  as  their  rude  attention  hung, 

Upon  the  wonders  of  his  tongue, 

Lo  ! Grizzle’s  alter’d  form  appears, 

With  half  its  tail,  and  half  its  ears  ! 

“ Is  there  no  law  ? ” the  Doctor  cries  : — 

“ Plenty,”  a lawyer  straight  replies  : 

" Employ  me,  and  those  thieves  shall  swing 
On  gallows-tree,  in  hempen-string  ; 

And,  for  the  rogue,  the  law  shall  flea  him, 

Who  maim’d  your  horse,  as  now  you  see  him.” 

“ No,”  quoth  the  Don,  “ your  pardon,  pray  : 

I’ve  had  enough  of  thieves  to-day  : 

I’ve  lost  four  shillings  and  a groat, 

But  you  would  strip  me  of  my  coat ; 

And  ears  and  tail  won’t  fatten  you, 

You’ll  want  the  head  and  carcase  too.” 

He  chuckled  as  he  made  the  stroke. 

And  all  around  enjoy’d  the  joke  ; 

But  still  it  was  a sorry  sight, 

To  see  the  beast  in  such  a plight : 

Yet  what  could  angry  Syntax  do  ? 


30 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


’Twas  all  in  vain  to  fret  and  stew  : 

His  well-stuff ’d  bags,  with  all  their  hoard 
Of  sketching-tools,  were  safe  restor’d  ; 

The  saddle,  too,  which  he  had  sought, 

For  small  reward  was  quickly  brought ; 

He  therefore  thought  it  far  more  sage, 

To  stop  his  threats  and  check  his  rage  ; 

So  to  the  ostler’s  faithful  care 
He  -gave  his  mutilated  mare  ; 

And  while  poor  Grizzle,  free  from  danger, 
Cropp’d  the  full  rack  and  clean’d  the  manger, 
Syntax,  to  ease  his  aching  head, 

Smok’d  out  his  pipe,  and  went  to  bed. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


31 


CANTO  IY. 


LESSD  be  the  man, 
said  he  of  yore, 

Who  Quixote’s  lance 
and  target  bore  ! 
Bless’d  be  the  man 
who  first  taught  sleep 
Throughout  our  wearied 
frames  to  creep, 

And  kindly  gave  to  human  woes 
The  oblivious  mantle  of  repose  ! 

Hail,  balmy  pow’r  ! that  canst  repair 
The  constant  waste  of  human  care  ; 

To  the  sad  heart  afford  relief, 

And  give  a respite  to  its  grief : 

Canst  calm,  through  night’s  composing  hours, 
The  threat’ning  storm  that  daily  low’rs  ; 

On  the  rude  flint  the  wretched  cheer, 

And  to  a smile  transform  the  tear  ! 


32 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Thus  wrapt  in  slumber  Syntax  lay — 

Forgot  the  troubles  of  the  day : 

So  sound  his  sleep,  so  sweet  his  rest, 

By  no  disturbing  dreams  distrest ; 

That,  all  at  ease,  he  lay  entranc’d, 

Till  the  fair  morn  was  far  advanc’d. 

At  length  the  hostess  thought  it  wrong 
He  should  be  left  to  sleep  so  long  ; 

So  bid  the  maid  to  let  him  know 
That  breakfast  was  prepar’d  below. 

Betty  then  op’d  the  chamber  door, 

And  tripping  onwards  ’cross  the  floor, 
Undrew  the  curtains,  one  by  one  ; 

When,  in  a most  ear-piercing  tone, 

Such  as  would  grace  the  London  cries, 

She  told  him  it  was  time  to  rise. 

The  noise  his  peaceful  slumbers  broke  ; 

He  gave  a snort  or  two,  and  ’woke. 

Now,  as  the  Doctor  turn’d  his  head, 

Betty  was  court’sying  by  the  bed  : — 

“ What  brought  you  here,  fair  maid,  I pray  ? 
“ To  tell  you,  sir,  how  wears  the  day  ; 

And  that  it  is  my  special  care 


Page  32. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  33 

To  get  your  worship’s  morning  fare. 

The  kettle  boils,  and  I can  boast 
No  small  renown  for  making  toast. 

There’s  coffee,  sir,  and  tea,  and  meat, 

And  surely  you  must  want  to  eat ; 

For  ten  long  hours  have  pass’d  away, 

Since  down  upon  this  bed  you  lay  ! ” 

The  Doctor  rubb’d  his  op’ning  eyes, 

Then  stretch’d  his  arms,  and  ’gan  to  rise 
But  Betty  still  demurely  stands, 

To  hear  him  utter  his  commands. 

“ Be  gone  ! ” he  cried,  “ get  something  nice, 
And  I’ll  be  with  you  in  a trice.” 

Behold  him  then,  renew’d  by  rest, 

His  chin  well  shay’d,  his  peruke  dress’d, 
Conning  with  solemn  air  the  news, 

His  welcome  breakfast  to  amuse  ; 

And  when  the  well-fed  meal  was  o’er, 

Grizzle  was  order’d  to  the  door ; 

Betty  was  also  told  to  say, 

The  mighty  sum  there  was  to  pay  : 

Betty,  obedient  to  his  will, 

Her  court’sy  makes,  and  brings  the  bill. 

D 


34 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Down  the  long  page  he  cast  his  eye, 

Then  shook  his  head,  and  heav’d  a sigh, 

“ What ! am  I doom’d,  where’er  I go, 

In  all  I meet  to  find  a foe  ? 

Where’er  I wander,  to  be  cheated, 

To  be  bamboozled  and  ill-treated ! ” 

Thus,  as  he  read  each  item  o’er, 

The  hostess  op’d  the  parlour  door ; 

When  Syntax  ’rose  in  solemn  state, 

And  thus  began  the  fierce  debate : — 

SYNTAX. 

“ Good  woman  ; here,  your  bill  retake* 
And,  prithee,  some  abatement  make ; 

I could  not  such  demands  afford, 

Were  I a bishop  or  a lord  : 

And  though  I hold  myself  as  good 
As  any  of  my  brotherhood, 

Howe’er,  by  bounteous  Fortune  crown’d, 
In  wealth  and  honours  they  abound, 

It  is  not  in  my  power  to  pay 
Such  long-drawn  bills  as  well  as  they. 

The  paper  fills  me  with  affright ; — 

I surely  do  not  read  it  right : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


35 


For  at  the  bottom  here,  I see 

Th’  enormous  total — one  pound,  three  ! ” 


HOSTESS. 

“ The  charges  all  are  fairly  made  ; 

If  you  will  eat,  I must  be  paid. 

My  bills  have  never  found  reproaches 
From  lords  and  ladies,  in  their  coaches, 
d 2 


36 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


This  house,  that’s  called  the  Eoyal  Crown, 
Is  the  first  inn  throughout  the  town  : 

The  best  of  gentry,  ev’ry  day, 

Become  my  guests  and  freely  pay : 
Besides,  I took  you  in  at  night, 

Half-dead,  with  hunger  and  affright, 

Just  ’scap’d  from  robbers.” 

SYNTAX. 

66  That’s  most  true, 
And  now  I’m  to  be  robb’d  by  you.” 

HOSTESS. 

“ Sir,  you  mistake  ; and  did  not  I 
Disdain  rude  words,  I’d  say — you  lie. 

I took  you  in  last  night,  I say,” — 

SYNTAX. 

“ ’Tis  true  ; — and  if  this  bill  I pay, 
You’ll  take  me  in  again  to-day.” 

HOSTESS. 

“ I gave  you  all  my  choicest  cheer, 

The  best  of  meat,  the  best  of  beer  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

And  then  you  snor’d  yourself  to  rest 
In  the  best  bed — I say  the  best. 

You’ve  had  such  tea  as  few  can  boast, 
With  a whole  loaf  turn’d  into  toast.” 

SYNTAX. 

u And  for  your  beef,  and  beer  and  tea, 
You  kindly  charge  me — one  pound  three  ! 

HOSTESS. 

“ ’Tis  cheap  as  dirt — for  well  I know 
How  things  with  country  curates  go  : 

And  I profess  that  I am  loth 
To  deal  unkindly  with  the  cloth  : 

Nay,  oft  and  oft,  as  I’m  a sinner, 

I’ve  given  hungry  clerks  a dinner.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ And  there’s  a proverb,  as  they  say, 
That  for  the  clerks  the  parsons  pay ; 
Which  you,  I trow,  can  well  fulfil, 
Whene’er  you  make  a parson’s  bill. 

Why,  one  pound  three,  the  truth  I speak, 
Would  keep  my  household  for  a week. 


38 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Dear  Mrs.  Syntax,  how  she’d  vapour, 

Were  she  to  read  this  curious  paper  ! ” 

HOSTESS. 

u If  that’s  your  living,  on  my  life, 

You  starve  your  servants  and  your  wife.” 

SYNTAX. 

u I wish  my  wife  were  here  to  meet  you, 

In  your  own  fashion  she  would  greet  you  : 
With  looks  as  fierce,  and  voice  as  shrill, 

She’d  make  you,  mistress,  change  your  bill.” 

HOSTESS. 

“ Think  you  besides,  there’s  nought  to  pay 
For  all  your  horse’s  corn  and  hay  ? 

And  ointments,  too,  to  cure  the  ail 
Of  her  cropp’d  ears  and  mangled  tail ! ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I wish  the  wight  would  bring  the  shears 
Which  dock’d  that  tail  and  cropp’d  those  ears4 
And  just  exert  the  self-same  skill 
To  crop  and  dock  your  monstrous  bill ! 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


39 


But,  I’m  in  haste  to  get  away, 

Though  one  pound  three  I will  not  pay  : 
So,  if  you’ll  take  one-half  th’  amount, 
We’ll  quickly  settle  the  account. 

There  is  your  money  : — do  you  see  ? 
And  let  us  part  in  charity.” 

HOSTESS. 

“Well,  as  a charitable  deed, 

I’ll  e’en  consent — so  mount  your  steed, 
And  on  your  journey  straight  proceed : 
But  well  you  know,  where’er  you  roam, 
That  Charity  begins  at  home.” 


40 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  V. 

HE  Doctor  smil’d,  the 
bill  was  paid, 

The  hostess  left  him 
to  the  maid ; 
When  Betty  stood 
in  humble  guise. 
With  expectation  in 
her  eyes, 

That  he  was  surely  so  good-hearted, 

To  give  her  something  ere  they  parted, 

Now,  Nature,  in  her  wanton  freaks, 

Had  given  Betty  rosy  cheeks  ; 

And  caus’d  her  raven  locks  to  break 
In  native  ringlets  on  her  neck  : 

The  roving  bee  might  wish  to  sip 
The  sweetness  of  her  pouting  lip  ; 

So  red,  so  tempting  to  the  view, 

’Twas  what  the  Doctor  long’d  to  do. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE,  41 

“ You’re  a nice  girl,”  he  smiling  said  ; 

“ Am  I ? ” replied  the  simp’ring  maid. 


“ I swear  you  are,  and  if  you’re  willing 
To  give  a kiss,  I’ll  give  a shilling.” 


42 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ If  ’tis  the  same  thing,  Sir,  to  you, 

Make  the  gift  two-fold,  and  take  two.” 

He  grimly  grinn’d,  with  inward  pleasure, 

And  instant  seiz’d  the  purchas’d  treasure. 

“ Your  lips,  my  dear,  are  sweet  as  honey : 

So  one  smack  more—  and  there’s  your  money.” 
This  charming  ceremony  o’er, 

The  Parson  strutted  to  the  door ; 

Where  his  poor  wounded  mare  appears, 

In  cruel  state  of  tail  and  ears. 

The  neighbours  all  impatient  wait, 

To  see  him  issue  from  the  gate  ; 

For  country-town  or  village-green 
Had  seldom  such  a figure  seen. 

Labour  stood  still  to  see  him  pass, 

While  ev’ry  lad  and  every  lass 
Ran  forward  to  enjoy  the  feast, 

To  jeer  the  sage,  and  mourn  the  beast. 

But,  one  and  all,  aloud  declare, 

’Twas  a fit  sight  for  country-fair  ; 

Far  better  than  a dancing  bear. 

At  length,  escap’d  from  all  the  noise 
Of  women,  men,  and  girls  and  boys, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  FICTURESQUE.  43 

In  the  recesses  of  a lane 

He  thus  gave  utt’rance  to  his  pain  : — 

“ It  seems  to  be  my  luckless  case, 

At  ev’ry  point,  in  every  place, 

To  meet  with  trouble  and  disgrace. 

But  yesterday  I left  my  home, 

In  search  of  fancied  wealth  to  roam  ; 

And  nought,  I think,  but  ills  betide  me. 

Sure,  some  foul  spirit  runs  beside  me  ; 

Some  blasting  demon  from  the  east, 

A deadly  foe  to  man  and  beast, 

That  loves  to  riot  in  disaster, 

And  plague  alike  both  horse  and  master. 
Grizzle,  who  full  five  years  and  more 
A trumpeter  in  triumph  bore  ; 

Who  had  in  hard-fought  battle  been, 

And  many  a bloody  conflict  seen  ; 

Who  having  ’scap’d  with  scarce  a scar,1 
’Mid  all  the  angry  threats  of  war  ; 

When  her  best  days  are  almost  past, 

Feels  these  ignoble  wounds  at  last. 

Ah  ! what  can  thy  fond  master  do  ? 

He’s  cut  and  slash’d  as  well  as  you. 

But,  though  no  more  with  housing  gay, 


44 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  prancing  step  you  take  your  way  ; 

Or,  with  your  stately  rider,  lead 
The  armed  troop  to  warlike  deed  ; 

While  you’ve  a leg  you  ne’er  shall  cease 
To  bear  the  minister  of  peace. 

Long  have  you  borne  him,  nor  e’er  grumbled, 
Nor  ever  started,  kick’d  or  stumbled.” 

But  mildest  natures  sometimes  err 
From  the  strict  rules  of  character  : 

The  tim’rous  bird  defends  its  young, 

And  beasts  will  kick  when  they  are  stung. 
’Twas  burning  hot,  and  hosts  of  flies, 

With  venom’d  stings,  around  them  rise  : 

They  seiz’d  on  Grizzle’s  wounded  part, 

Who  straight  began  to  snort  and  start ; 
Kick’d  up  behind,  rear’d  up  before, 

And  play’d  a dozen  antics  more  : 

The  Doctor  coax’d,  but  all  in  vain, 

She  snorted,  kick’d,  and  rear’d  again  : 

“ Alas  ! ” said  Syntax,  “ could  I pop 
Just  now,  upon  a blacksmith’s  shop, 

Whose  cooling  unguent  would  avail 
To  save  poor  Grizzle’s  ears  and  tail ! ” 


I 


« 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


45 


When  scarce  had  he  his  wishes  spoke, 
Than  he  beheld  a cloud  of  smoke, 

That  from  a forge  appear’d  to  rise, 

And  for  a moment  veil’d  the  skies, 

While  the  rude  hammers  to  his  ear 
Proclaim’d  the  aid  he  wish’d  was  near. 

By  the  way-side  the  cottage  rose, 

Around  it  many  a willow  grows, 

Where  Syntax,  in  a tone  of  grief, 

Shew’d  Grizzle’s  wounds,  and  pray’d  relief. 
The  sooty  Galen  soon  appear’d, 

And  with  fair  hopes  the  Doctor  cheer’d. 

“ Trust  me,  good  Sir,  I’ve  got  a plaster, 
Will  cure  the  beast  of  her  disaster  ; 

And,  while  the  dressing  I prepare, 

With  all  becoming  skill  and  care, 

You  in  that  arbour  may  regale, 

With  a cool  pipe  and  jug  of  ale  : 

I’ve  long  a two-fold  trade  profess’d, 

And  med’cine  sell  for  man  and  beast.” 

Syntax  now  sought  the  cooling  shade 
Wkile  Galen’s  dame  the  banquet  made  : 
She  well  knew  how  her  guests  to  please, 


46 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  added  meat,  and  bread,  and  cheese  : 
Besides,  she  told  the  village- tale— 

Who  came  to  drink  her  home-brew’d  ale ; 
How  that  the  laughter-loving  Vicar 
Would  sometimes  walk  to  taste  their  liquor  ; 
That  their  gay  landlord  was  renown’d 
For  hunting  fox,  with  horn  and  hound ; 

That  he’d  a daughter  passing  fair, 

Who  was  his  honour’s  only  heir  ; 

But  she  was  proud,  nor  could  a squire 
Approach  to  tell  his  am’rous  fire ; 

A lord  alone,  as  it  was  said, 

She  would  receive  into  her  bed. 

Throughout  the  village,  every  name 
Became  a subject  for  the  dame  ; 

And  thus  she  play’d  her  chatt’ring  part, 

’Till  Syntax  thought  it  time  to  start. 

And  now  poor  Grizzle  re-appears, 

With  plaster’d  tail,  and  plaster’d  ears, 
Which  thus  cas’d  up,  might  well  defy 
The ‘sharpest  sting  of  gnat  or  fly. 

The  Doctor  having  had  his  fill, 

Without  a word  discharg’d  his  bill ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  47 

But,  as  it  was  the  close  of  day, 

He  trotted  briskly  on  his  way  ; 

And  ere  the  sun  withdrew  his  light, 

An  inn  receiv’d  him  for  the  night, 

His  frame  fatigu’d,  his  mind  oppress’d, 

He  tiff’d  his  punch,  and  went  to  rest. 

The  morning  came,  when  he  arose 
In  spirits  from  his  calm  repose  ; 

And  while  the  maid  prepar’d  the  tea, 

He  look’d  around  the  room  to  see 
What  story  did  the  walls  disclose 
Of  human  joys,  of  human  woes. 

The  window  quickly  caught  his  eye, 

On  whose  clear  panes  he  could  descry 
The  motley  works  of  many  a Muse  : 

There  was  enough  to  pick  and  choose  ; 

And,  “ Faith  ! ” said  he,  “ I’ll  strive  to  hook 
Some  of  these  lines  into  my  book  : 

For  here  there  are  both  grave  and  witty, 

And  some,  I see,  are  rather  pretty.” 

From  a small  pocket  in  his  coat 
He  drew  his  tablets, — when  he  wrote 
Whate’er  the  pregnant  panes  possess’d  ; 

And  these  choice  lays  among  the  rest : , 


48 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ If  my  fond  breast  were  made  of  glass, 
And  you  could  see  what  there  doth  pass, 
Kitty,  my  ever  charming  fair  ! 

You’d  see  your  own  sweet  image  there.” 


“ I once  came  here  a freebooting,  ’ 

And  on  this  fine  manor  went  shooting, 
And  if  the  ’Squire  this  truth  denies, 

This  glass  shall  tell  the  ’Squire — ho  lies.” 


“ Dolly’s  as  fat  as  any  sow, 

And,  if  I’m  not  mistaken, 
Dolly  is  well  dispos’d,  I trow, 

To  trim  her  husband’s  bacon.” 


“ Dear  Jenny,  while  your  name  I hear, 
No  transient  glow  my  bosom  heats ; 
And  when  I meet  your  eye,  my  dear, 
My  flutt’ring  heart  no  longer  beats. 

I dream,  but  I no  longer  find 

Your  form  still  present  to  my  view ; 
I wake,  but  now  my  vacant  mind 
No  longer,  waking,  dreams  of  you. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


49 


I can  find  maids,  in  ev’ry  rout, 

With  smiles  as  false  and  forms  as  fine  ; 
But  you  must  hunt  the  world  throughout, 
To  find  a heart  as  true  as  mine.” 


“ I hither  came  down 
From  fair  London  town, 

With  Lucy  so  mild  and  so  kind  ; 
But  Lucy  grew  cool, 

And  called  me  a fool, 

So  I started  and  left  her  behind.” 


But  as  he  copied,  quite  delighted, 

All  that  the  Muse  had  thus  indited, 

A hungry  dog,  and  prone  to  steal, 

Ran  off  with  half  his  breakfast  meal ; 
While  Dolly,  ent’ring  with  the  kettle, 
Was  follow’d  by  a man  of  mettle, 

Who  swore  he’d  have  the  promis’d  kiss  ; 
And,  as  he  seiz’d  the  melting  bliss, 

From  the  hot,  ill-pois’d  kettle’s  spout, 
The  boiling  stream  came  pouring  out, 
Which  drove  the  Doctor  from  the  Muse, 
By  quickly  filling  both  his  shoes. 

E 


50 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  VI. 

HAT  various  evils 
man  await, 

In  this  strange,  sub- 
lunary state ! 

No  sooner  is  he 
cheer’d  by  joy, 
Than  sorrows  come, 
and  pains  annoy ; 
And  scarce  his  lips  are  op’d  to  bless 
The  transient  gleam  of  happiness, 

Than  some  dark  cloud  obscures  the  sky, 

And  griefs  sad  moisture  fills  his  eye. 

Thus,  while  the  Doctor  smiling  stole 
From  the  clear  glass  each  witty  scroll, 

He  felt,  to  interrupt  the  treat, 

The  scalding  torment  in  his  feet ; 

And,  thus  awaken’d  from  his  trance, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  FICTURESQUE. 


51 


Began  to  skip,  and  jump,  and  dance. 

“ Take  off  my  shoes,”  he  raving  cried, 

“ And  let  my  gaiters  be  untied ; ” 
When  Dolly,  with  a nimble  hand, 
Instant  obey’d  the  loud  command  ; 
And,  as  he  loll’d  upon  the  chair, 

His  feet  and  ankles  soon  were  bare. 
Away  th’  impatient  damsel  run, 

To  cure  the  mischief  she  had  done  ; 

And  quick  return’d  with  liquid  store, 
To  rub  his  feet  and  ankles  o’er ; 

Nor  was  the  tender  office  vain  ; 

It  soon  assuag’d  the  burning  pain. 

A tear  was  seen  on  Dolly’s  cheek  ; 

Who  sigh’d  as  if  her  heart  would  break. 
“ Be  not,  my  girl,  with  care  oppress’d  ; 
I’m  now,”  says  Syntax,  “ quite  at  rest : 
My  anger’s  vanish’d  with  the  pain  ; 

No  more,  my  dear,  shall  I complain, 
Since,  to  get  rid  of  my  disaster, 

So  fair  a maid  presents  the  plaster.” 
Thus  did  he  Dolly’s  care  beguile, 

And  turn’d  her  tears  into  a smile  ; 

But,  while  she  cool’d  the  raging  part, 

E 2 


52 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


She  somehow  warm’d  the  Doctor’s  heart ; 
And,  as  she  rubb’d  the  ointment  in, 

He  pinch’d  her  cheeks  and  chuck’d  her  chin  ; 
And,  when  she  had  re-dress’d  his  shanks, 

He  with  a kiss  bestow’d  his  thanks  ; 

While  gentle  Dolly,  nothing  loth, 

Consenting  smil’d,  and  took  them  both. 

“ I think,”  said  she,  “ you’d  better  stay, 

Nor  travel  further  on  to-day  : ” — 

And  though  she  said  it  with  a smile, 

His  steady  purpose  to  beguile, 

The  Doctor  clos’d  the  kind  debate, 

By  ordering  Grizzle  to  the  gate. 

Now,  undisturb’d,  he  took  his  way, 

And  travell’d  till  the  close  of  day  ; 

When,  to  delight  his  wearied  eyes, 

Before  him  Oxford’s  tow’rs  arise. 

“ 0,  Alma  Mater  ! ” Syntax  cried, 

“ My  present  boast,  my  early  pride  ; 

To  whose  protecting  care  I owe 
All  I’ve  forgot,  and  all  I know : 

Deign  from  your  nursling  to  receive 
The  homage  that  his  heart  can  give  ! 


Page  52. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


53 


Hail ! sacred,  ever-honour’d  shades, 
Where  oft  I woo’d  th’  immortal  maids  ; 
Where  strolling  oft,  at  break  of  day, 

My  feet  have  brush’d  the  dews  away  ! 

By  Isis  and  by  Cherwell’s  stream, 

How  oft  I wove  the  classic  dream, 

Or  sought  the  cloisters  dim,  to  meet 
Pale  Science  in  her  lone  retreat ! 

The  sight  of  you  again  inspires 
My  bosom  with  its  former  fires  ; 

I feel  again  the  genial  glow, 

That  makes  me  half  forget  the  woe, 

And  all  my  aching  heart  could  tell. 

Since  last  I bade  these  scenes  farewell.” 

Thus  Syntax  mov’d  in  sober  pace, 

Beset  with  academic  grace  ; 

While  Grizzle  bore  him  up  the  town, 

And  at  the  Mitre  set  him  down. 

The  night  was  pass’d  in  sound  repose, 

And  as  the  clock  struck  nine,  he  rose. 

The  barber  now  applies  his  art, 

To  shave  him  clean,  and  make  him  smart ; 
From  him  he  learn’d  that  Dicky  Bendy 


54  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

His  early  academic  friend, 

As  a reward  for  all  his  knowledge, 

Was  made  the  Provost  of  his  College  ; 

And  fame  declar’d  that  he  had  clear 
At  least  twelve  hundred  pounds  a year. 

“ 0 ho  ! ” said  Syntax,  “ if  that’s  true, 

I cannot  surely  better  do 
Than  further  progress  to  delay, 

And  with  Friend  Dicky  pass  a day.” 

Away  he  hied,  and  soon  he  found  him, 
With  all  his  many  comforts  round  him., 
The  Provost  hail’d  the  happy  meeting, 
And  after  kind  and  mutual  greeting, 

To  make  inquiries  he  began  ; 

And  thus  the  conversation  ran : — 

PROVOST. 

“ Good  Doctor  Syntax,  I rejoice 
Once  more  to  hear  your  well-known  voice  ; 
To  dine  with  us  I hope  you’ll  stay, 

And  share  a college-feast  to-day. 

Full  many  a year  is  gone  and  past, 

Since  we  beheld  each  other  last : 

Fortune  has  kindly  dealt  with  me, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  55 

As  you,  my  friend,  may  plainly  see  ; 

And  pray  how  has  she  dealt  with  thee  ? ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Alas  ! alas  ! I’ve  play’d  the  fool ; 

I took  a wife,  and  keep  a school ; 

And  while  on  dainties  you  are  fed, 

I scarce  get  butter  to  my  bread.” 

PROVOST. 

“ For  my  part,  I have  never  married, 

And  grieve  to  hear  your  plans  miscarried : 

I hope,  then,  my  old  worthy  friend, 

Your  visit  here  your  fate  will  mend. 

My  services  you  may  command  ; 

I offer  them  with  heart  and  hand  ; 

And  while  you  think  it  right  to  stay, 

You’ll  make  this  house  your  home,  I pray.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I’m  going  further,  on  a scheme, 

Which  you  may  think  an  idle  dream ; 

At  the  fam’d  Lakes  to  take  a look, 

And  of  my  Journey  make  a Booh” 


56 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


PROVOST. 

“ I know  full  well  that  you  have  store 
Of  modern  as  of  classic  lore  ; 

And,  surely,  with  your  weight  of  learning, 
And  all  your  critical  discerning, 

You  might  produce  a work  of  name, 

To  fill  your  purse  and  give  you  fame. 

How  oft  have  we  together  sought 
Whate’er  the  ancient  sages  taught ! ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I now  perceive  that  all  your  knowledge 
Is  pent,  my  friend,  within  your  college  ! 
Learning’s  become  a very  bore  ; 

That  fashion  long  since  has  been  o’er. 

A bookseller  may  keep  his  carriage, 

And  ask  ten  thousand  pounds  in  marriage  , 
May  have  his  mansion  in  a square, 

And  build  a house  for  country  air  ; 

And  yet  ’tis  odds  the  fellow  knows 
If  Horace  wrote  in  verse  or  prose. 

Could  Doctor  G in  chariot  ride, 

And  take  each  day  his  wine  beside, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


57 


If  he  did  not  contrive  to  cook, 

Each  year,  his  Tour  into  a book  ; 

A flippant,  flashy,  flow’ry  style, 

A lazy  morning  to  beguile  ; 

With,  every  other  leaf,  a print 
Of  some  fine  view  in  aquatint  ? 

Such  is  the  book  I mean  to  make, 

And  I’ve  no  doubt  the  work  will  take  : 
For  though  your  wisdom  may  decry  it, 
The  simple  folk  will  surely  buy  it. 

I will  allow  it  is  but  trash, 

But  then  it  furnishes  the  cash.” 

PROVOST. 

“ Why,  things  are  not  the  same,  I fear, 
As  when  we  both  were  scholars  here  ; 

But  still  I doubt  not  your  success, 

And  wish  you  ev’ry  happiness  ; 

Myself,  and  my  whole  college  tribe, 
Depend  upon  it,  will  subscribe.” 

At  length  the  bell  began  to  call 
To  dinner,  in  the  college-hall ; 

Nor  did  the  guests  delay  to  meet, 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Lur’d  by  the  bounty  of  the  treat. 

The  formal  salutations  over, 

Each  drew  his  chair  and  seized  his  cover. 
The  Provost,  in  collegiate  pride, 

Plac’d  Doctor  Syntax  by  his  side  ; 


And  soon  they  heard  the  hurrying  feet 
Of  those  that  bore  the  smoking  meat. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  59 

Behold  the  dishes  due  appear, — 

Fish  in  the  van,  beef  in  the  rear  ; 

But  he  who  the  procession  led, 

By  some  false  step  or  awkward  tread, 

Or  curs’d  by  some  malignant  pow’r, 

Fell  headlong  on  the  marble  floor ! 

Ah  ! heedless  wight ! ah,  hapless  dish  ! 

Ah  ! all  the  luxury  of  fish  ! 

Thus  in  a moment  spoil’d  and  wasted ; 

Ah  ! never,  never  to  be  tasted  ! 

But  one  false  step  begets  another, 

So  they  all  tumbled  one  o’er  t’other  ; 

And  now  the  pavement  was  bestrew’d 
With  roast  and  boil’d,  and  fried  and  stew’d. 
The  waiters  squall’d,  their  backs  bespatter’d 
With  scalding  sauce  ; the  dishes  clatter’d 
In  various  discord  ; while  the  brawl 
Be-echo’d  through  th’  astonish’d  hall. 

“Well,”  said  a Don,  “as  I’m  a sinner, 

We  must  go  elsewhere  for  a dinner.” 

“ ’Tis  no  such  thing,”  the  Head  replied, 

“ You  all  shall  soon  be  satisfied  : 

We  are  but  ten  : and  sure  there’s  plenty  ; 

I order’d  full  enough  for  twenty. 


60 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I see,  my  friends,  the  haunch  unspoil’d, 

With  chickens  roast,  and  turkey  boil’d  ; 

The  ven’son  pasty  is  secure, 

The  marrow  pudding’s  safe  and  sure  ; 

With  ham,  and  many  good  things  more, 

And  tarts,  and  custards,  full  a score. 

Sure  here’s  enough  to  cut  and  carve  ; 

To-day,  I think,  we  shill  not  starve  : 

But  still  I’ll  make  the  boobies  pay 
For  the  good  things  they’ve  thrown  away.” 
Thus  ev’ry  eye  was  quickly  cheer’d 
With  all  the  plenty  that  appear’d  ; 

They  ate,  and  drank,  they  smok’d,  they 
talk’d, 

And  round  the  college-garden  walk’d  : 

But dhe  time  came  (for  time  will  fly) 

When  Syntax  was  to  say — “ good  bye.” 

His  tongue  could  scarce  his  feeling  tell, 

Could  scarce  pronounce  the  word,  “ fare- 
well!” 

The  Provost,  too,  whose  gen’rous  heart 
In  those  same  feelings  bore  a part, 

Told  him,  when  he  should  want  a friend, 

To  write,  or  come,  to  Dicky  Bend. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  61 

Next  morning,  at  an  early  hour, 

Syntax  proceeded  on  his  Tour  ; 

And,  as  he  saunter’d  on  his  way, 

The  scene  of  many  a youthful  day, 

He  thought  ’twould  give  his  book  an  air, 

If  Oxford  were  well  painted  there  ; 

And,  as  he  curious  look’d  around, 

He  saw  a spot  of  rising  ground, 

From  whence  the  turrets  of  the  city 
Would  make  a picture  very  pretty  ; 

Where  Badcliff’s  dome  would  intervene, 

And  Magd’len  tower  crown  the  scene. 

So  Grizzle  to  a hedge  he  tied, 

And  onward  then  impatient  hied  : 

But,  as  he  sought  to  choose  a part, 

Where  he  might  best  display  his  art, 

A wicked  bull  no  sooner  view’d  him, 

Than  loud  he  roar’d,  and  straight  pursu’d  hum 
The  Doctor,  finding  danger  near, 

Flew  swift]  y on  the  wings  of  fear, 

And  nimbly  clamber’d  up  a tree, 

That  gave  him  full  security  ; 

But  as  he  ran  to  save  his  bacon, 

By  hat  and  wig  he  was  forsaken ; 


62 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


His  sicetch-boolc  too,  he  left  behind, 

A prey  to  the  unlucky  wind  : 

While  Grizzle,  startled  by  the  rout, 

Broke  from  the  hedge,  and  pranc’d  about. 
Syntax,  still  trembling  with  affright, 
Clung  to  the  tree  with  all  his  might ; 

He  call’d  for  help — and  help  was  near, 
For  dogs,  and  men,  and  boys  appear ; 

So  that  his  foe  was  forc’d  to  yield, 

And  leave  him  master  of  the  field. 

No  more  of  roaring  bulls  afraid, 

He  left  the  tree’s  protecting  shade  ; 

And  as  he  pac’d  the  meadow  round, 

His  hat,  his  wig,  his  book  he  found. 
u Come,  my  old  girl,”  the  Doctor  said ; 
The  faithful  steed  the  call  obey’d, 

So  Grizzle  once  more  he  bestrode, 

Nor  look’d  behind — but  off  he  rode. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


63 


CANTO  VII. 

IXED  in  cogitation 
deep, 

Adown  the  hill  and 
up  the  steep, 
Along  the  moor  and 
through  the  wood, 
Syntax  his  pensive 
way  pursu’d ; 

And  now  his  thoughts  began  to  roam 
To  the  good  woman  left  at  home  ; 

How  she  employ’d  the  passing  day, 

When  her  fond  mate  was  far  away : 

For  they  possess’d,  with  all  their  pother, 

A sneaking  kindness  for  each  other. 

Proud  of  her  husband’s  stock  of  learning, 

His  classic  skill  and  deep  discerning, 


64 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


No  tongue  she  suffer’d  to  dethrone 
His  fond  importance — but  her  own. 
Besides,  she  was  a very  bee 
In  bustle  and  in  industry  ; 

And  though  a pointed  sting  she  bore, 
That  sometimes  made  the  Doctor  sore, 
She  help’d  to  make  the  household  thrive, 
And  brought  home  honey  to  the  hive. 

He  too  had  not  forgot  her  charms, 

When  first  he  took  her  to  his  arms  ; 

For,  if  report  relates  the  truth, 

She  was  a beauty  in  her  youth  : 

The  charming  Dolly  was  well  known 
To  be  the  toast  of  all  the  town  ; 

And,  though  full  many  a year  was  gone, 
Since  this  good  dame  was  twenty-one, 
She  still  retain’d  the  air  and  mien 
Of  the  nice  girl  she  once  had  been. 

For  these,  and  other  charms  beside, 

She  was  indeed  the  Doctor’s  pride  ; 

Nay,  he  would  sometimes  on  her  gaze 
With  the  fond  looks  of  former  days, 

And,  whatsoe’er  she  did  or  said, 

He  kept  his  silence  and  obey’d. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  65 

Besides,  his  mind  he  thus  consol’d  ; 

“ ’Tis  classical  to  he  a scold  ; 

For,  as  the  ancient  tomes  record, 

Xantippe’s  tongue  was  like  a sword  ; 

She  was  about  my  Dolly’s  age, 

And  the  known  helpmate  of  a sage  : 

Thus  Socrates,  in  days  of  yore, 

The  self-same  persecution  bore  ; 

Nor  shall  I blush  to  share  the  fate 
Of  one  so  good— of  one  so  great.” 

’Twas  now  five  days  since  they  had  parted, 
And  he  was  ever  tender-hearted  : 

Whene’er  he  heard  the  wretched  sigh, 

He  felt  a Christian  sympathy  ; 

For  though  he  played  the  demi-god 
Among  his  boys,  with  rule  and  rod  ; 

What,  though  he  spoke  in  pompous  phrase, 
And  kept  the  vulgar  in  amaze  : 

Though  self-important  he  would  stride 
Along  the  street  with  priestly  pride  ; 

Though  his  strange  figure  would  provoke 
The  passing  smile,  the  passing  joke  ; 

Among  the  high,  or  with  the  low, 

F 


66 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Syntax  had  never  made  a foe  ; 

And,  though  the  jest  of  all  he  knew, 

Yet,  while  they  laugh’d,  they  lov’d  him  too  : 
No  wonder,  then,  so  far  from  home, 

His  head  would  shake,  the  sigh  would  come. 
Thus  he  went  gently  on  his  way, 

Till  the  sun  mark’d  declining  day.  * 

But  thought  as  well  as  grief  is  dry, 

And,  lo  ! a friendly  cot  was  nigh, 

Whose  sign,  high  dangling  in  the  air, 

Invites  the  trav’ller  to  repair, 

Where  he  in  comfort  may  regale, 

With  cooling  pipe  and  foaming  ale. 

The  Doctor  gave  the  loud  command. 

And  sees  the  Host  beside  him  stand  ; 

Then  quits  his  steed  with  usual  state, 

And  passes  through  the  wicket-gate  ; 

The  Hostess  opes  the  willing  door, 

And  then  recounts  the  humble  store 
Which  her  poor  cottage  could  afford, 

To  place  upon  the  frugal  board. 

The  home-spun  napkin  soon  was  laid, 

The  table  all  its  ware  display’d ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  67 

The  well-broil’d  rasher  then  appear’d, 

And  with  fresh  eggs  his  stomach  cheer’d ; 

The  crusty  pie,  with  apples  lin’d, 

Sweeten’d  the  feast  on  which  he  din’d, 

And  liquor,  that  was  brew’d  at  home, 

Among  the  rest  was  seen  to  foam. 

The  Doctor  drank — the  Doctor  ate, 

Well  pleas’d  to  find  so  fair  a treat ; 

Then  to  his  pipe  he  kindly  took, 

And  with  a condescending  look, 

Call’d  on  the  Hostess  to  relate 
What  was  the  village  name  and  state  ; 

And  to  whose  office  it  was  given 
To  teach  them  all  the  ways  to  Heaven. 


HOSTESS. 

'6  The  land  belongs  to  ’Squire  Bounty, 
No  better  man  lives  in  the  county : 

I wish  the  Rector  were  the  same  ; 

One  Doctor  Squeez’em  is  his  name  ; 

But  we  ne’er  see  him — more’s  the  shame 
And  while  in  wealth  he  cuts  and  carves, 
The  worthy  Curate  prays  and  starves.” 

F 2 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“ I truly  wish  that  he  were  here, 

To  take  a pipe  and  share  my  beer ; 

I know  what  ’tis,  as  well  as  he, 

To  serve  a man  I never  see.” 

Just  as  he  spoke,  the  Curate  came  : — 

“ This,  this  is  he  !”  exclaim’d  the  dame. 
Syntax  his  brother  Parson  greeted, 

And  begg’d  him  to  be  quickly  seated  ; 

“ Come,  take  a pipe,  and  taste  the  liquor, 
’Tis  good  enough  for  any  vicar.” 

CURATE. 

“ Alas  ! Sir,  I’m  no  vicar ; — I, 

Bound  to  an  humble  curacy, 

With  all  my  care  can  scarce  contrive 
To  keep  my  family  alive. 

While  the  fat  Rector  can  afford 
To  eat  and  drink  like  any  lord  ; 

But  know,  Sir,  I’m  a man  of  letters, 

And  ne’er  speak  evil  of  my  betters.” 


Page  68. 


J 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


69 


SYNTAX. 

“ That’s  good  ; — but  when  we  suffer  pain, 
’Tis  nature’s  office  to  complain  ; 

And  when  the  strong  oppress  the  weak, 
Justice,  though  blind,  will  always  speak. 
Tell  me,  have  you  explain’d  your  case, 
With  due  humility  and  grace  ? 

The  great  and  wealthy  must  be  flatter’d ; 
They  love  with  praise  to  be  bespatter’d : 
Indeed,  I cannot  see  the  harm, 

If  thus  you  can  their  favour  charm  ; 

If  by  fine  phrases  you  can  bend 
The  pride  of  power  to  be  your  friend.” 

CURATE. 

“ I wrote,  I’m  sure,  in  humblest  style, 

And  prais’d  his  goodness  all  the  while  : 

I begg’d,  as  things  had  grown  so  dear, 

He’d  raise  my  pay  ten  pounds  a year ; 

And,  as  I now  had  children  five, 

The  finest  little  bairns  alive, 

While  their  poor,  fond,  and  faithful  mother 
Would  soon  present  me  with  another ; 


70 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And,  as  the  living  brought  him,  clear, 
At  least  a thousand  pounds  a year, 

He’d  grant  the  favour  I implore, 

Nor  let  me  starve  upon  threescore.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Now  I should  like  without  delay, 

To  hear  what  this  rich  man  could  say ; 
For  I can  well  perceive,  my  friend, 

That  you  did  not  obtain  your  end.” 

CURATE. 

“ The  postman  soon  a letter  brought, 
Which  cost  me  sixpence  and  a groat ; 
Nor  can  your  friendly  heart  suggest 
The  rudeness  which  the  page  express’d. 

‘ Such  suits  as  your’s  may  well  miscarry, 
For  beggars  should  not  dare  to  marry  ; 
At  least,  for  I will  not  deceive  you, 

I never,  never  will  relieve  you  ; 

And  if  you  trouble  me,  be  sure 
You  shall  be  ousted  from  the  cure.’ 

But  I shall  now,  good  Sir,  refrain, 
Because  I know  ’twould  give  you  pain, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  71 

From  telling  all  that  in  his  spite 
The  arch  old  scoundrel  chose  to  write  ; 

For  know,  Sir,  I’m  a man  of  letters, 

And  never  will  abuse  my  betters.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Zounds  ! — ’tis  enough  to  make  one  swear, 
Nor  can  I such  a monster  bear  : 

But  think,  my  friend,  on  that  great  day 
Of  strict  account,  when  he  must  pay 
For  all  his  cruelty  and  lies  : 

Then  he  shall  sink,  and  you  will  rise.” 

CURATE. 

“ The  terms,  I own,  are  not  quite  civil, 

But  he’s  the  offspring  of  the  devil ; 

And,  when  the  day  of  life  is  past, 

He’ll  with  his  father  dwell  at  last ; 

But  know,  Sir,  I’m  a man  of  letters, 

And  ne’er  wish  evil  to  my  betters.” 

’Twas  thus  they  talk’d  and  drank  their  ale, 
Till  the  dim  shades  of  eve  prevail, 

When  Syntax  settled  each  demand  ; 


72 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And,  while  he  held  the  Curate’s  hand, 
Bid  him  he  stout,  and  not  despair. 

“ The  poor  are  God’s  peculiar  care  : 
You’re  not  the  only  one,  my  friend, 

Who  has  with  evil  to  contend  ! 

Resign  yourself  to  what  is  given  : 

Be  good,  and  leave  the  rest  to  Heaven.” 
Syntax,  we’ve  said,  was  tender-hearted, — 
He  dropp’d  a tear,  and  then  departed. 

The  evening  lower’d — a drizzly  rain 
Had  spread  a mist  o’er  all  the  plain ; 
Besides,  the  home-brew’d  beer  began 
To  prey  upon  the  inward  man  ; 

And  Syntax,  muddled,  did  not  know 
Or  where  he  was,  or  where  to  go. 

An  active  horseman  by  him  trotted, 
And  Syntax  was  not  so  besotted 
But  he  could  hiccup  out,  “ My  friend, 

Do  tell  me  if  this  way  will  tend 
To  bring  me  to  some  place  of  rest  ?” 

“ Yes,”  ’twas  replied — “ the  very  best 
Of  all  our  inns,  within  a mile, 


73 


v 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Will  soon  your  weariness  beguile.’’ 

Who  should  this  be  but  Squire  Bounty , 

So  much  belov’d  throughout  the  county, 
And  he  resolv’d,  by  way  of  jest, 

To  have  the  Parson  for  his  guest ; 

So  on  he  gallop’d  to  prepare 
His  people  for  the  friendly  snare. 

The  Doctor  came  in  tipsy  state  ; 

The  ’Squire  receiv’d  him  at  the  gate, 

And  to  a parlour  led  him  straight ; 

Then  plac’d  him  in  an  easy  chair, 

And  ask’d  to  know  his  pleasure  there. 

SYNTAX. 

“ Landlord,  I’m  sadly  splash’d  with  mire, 
And  chill’d  with  rain,  so  light  a fire  ; 

And  tell  the  ostler  to  take  care 
Of  that  good  beast,  my  Grizzle  mare  ; 

And  what  your  larder  can  afford, 

Pray  place  it  quickly  on  the  board.” 

’squire. 

“ We’ve  butcher’s  meat,  of  ev’ry  kind  ; 

But,  if  that  is  not  to  your  mind, 


74 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


There’s  poultry,  Sir  ; and  if  you  please, 
Our  cook  excels  in  fricassees.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Tell  me,  my  honest  friend,  I pray, 

What  kind  of  fowl  or  fish  are  they  ? 
Besides,  my  very  civil  Host, 

I wish  to  know  what  they  will  cost ; 

For  a poor  parson  can’t  afford 
To  live  on  dainties  like  a lord.” 

’squire. 

“ The  Clergy,  Sir,  when  here  they  stay, 

Are  never,  never  ask’d  to  pay  : 

I love  the  Church,  and,  for  its  sake, 

I ne’er  make  bills  or  reck’nings  take  : 
Proud  if  its  ministers  receive 
The  little  that  I have  to  give.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Why,  then,  my  friend,  you’re  never  dull ; 
Your  inn,  I trow,  is  always  full : — 

’Tis  a good  rule,  must  be  contest, 

But,  though  I blink,  I see  a jest.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


75 


’squire. 

“ No,  Sir  ; yon  see  the  cloth  is  laid, 

And  not  a farthing  to  be  paid.” 

syntax. 

“ I find  my  head’s  not  very  clear  ; 

My  eyes  see  double,  too,  I fear ; 

For  all  these  things  can  never  be 
Prepar’d  for  such  a guest  as  me  : 

A banquet,  it  must  be  allow’d, 

Of  which  Olympus  might  be  proud.” 

Thus  Syntax  ate  and  drank  his  fill, 
Regardless  of  the  morrow’s  bill ; 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  call’d  the  waiters, 
To  rid  him  of  his  shoes  and  gaiters. 

“ Go  tell  the  maid  to  shew  the  bed, 

Where  I may  lay  my  aching  head  ; 

Here,  take  my  wig  and  bring  a cap, 

My  eye-lids  languish  for  a nap  : 

No  court’sying,  pray  ; I want  no  fawning, 
For  I shall  break  my  jaws  with  yawning.” 


76 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Now  Kitty,  to  adorn  his  crown, 

Brought  him  a night-cap  of  her  own  ; 

And,  having  put  it  on,  she  bound  it 
With  a pink  ribbon  round  and  round  it ; 

In  this  fine  guise  was  Syntax  led 
Up  the  best  stairs,  and  put  to  bed. 

Though  mirth  prevail’d  the  house  throughout, 
Though  it  was  all  one  revel  rout, 

He  heard  it  not,  nor  did  he  know 
The  merriment  he  caused  below  ; 

For,  with  fatigue  and  wine  oppress’d, 

He  grunted,  groan’d,  and  went  to  rest. 

But  when  the  Sun  in  Thetis’  lap 
Had  taken  out  his  usual  nap, 

Syntax  awoke,  and  looking  round, 

The  sight  his  senses  quite  confound. 

He  saw  that  he  had  laid  his  head 
Within  a fine- wrought  silken  bed  : 

A gaudy  carpet  grac’d  the  floor, 

And  gilded  mouldings  deck’d  the  door, 

Nor  did  the  mirror  fail  to  show 
His  own  sweet  form  from  top  to  toe. 

“ If  I,”  said  he,  “ remember  right, 

I was  most  lordly  drunk  last  night ; 


Page  76. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  77 

And,  as  the  Tinker  in  the  play 
Was  taken,  when  dead-drunk  he  lay, 

And  made  a lord  for  half  a day  ; 

I think  that  some  one  has  made  free 
To  play  the  self-same  trick  with  me  : 

But  I’ll  contrive  to  be  possest 
Of  this  same  secret  when  I’m  drest : 

To  find  it  out — I’ll  ring  the  bell ; 

The  chamber-maid  the  truth  may  tell.” 

She  soon  appear’d,  and  court’sying  low, 
Requested  his  commands  to  know. — 

“ When  and  how  did  I come  here  ? 

You’ll  be  so  good  to  say,  my  dear.” 

“ You  came  last  night,  not  very  late, 

About  the  time  the  clock  struck  eight ; 

And  I have  heard  the  servants  say, 

They  thought  that  you  had  lost  your  way.” 

“ Inform  me,  also,  how  you  call 

This  noble  inn  ?”  “ ’Tis  Welcome  Hall” 

“ And  pray  who  have  you  in  the  house  ? ” 

“ We’ve  ’Squire  Bounty  and  his  spouse  ; 

With  Lady  and  Sir  William  Hearty, 

And,  you,  good  Sir,  may  join  the  party  : 

Indeed,  I’m  order’d  to  request 

That  you  will  be  their  morning  guest.” 


78 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  question  more  he  did  not  stay, 

But  bade  the  damsel  shew  the  way. 

0 ! ’twas  a very  pleasant  meeting  : 

The  Landlord  gave  a hearty  greeting, 
And  plac’d  the  Doctor  in  a chair, 
Between  two  ladies,  young  and  fair. 
Syntax,  well-pleas’d,  began  to  prate, 

And  all  his  history  to  relate  ; 

While  mirth  and  laughter  loud  prevail, 
As  he  let  forth  the  curious  tale. 

At  length  the  ’Squire  explain’d  the  joke  ; 
When  thus  the  Doctor  quaintly  spoke  : — 
“ I beg,  Sir,  no  excuse  you’ll  make, 

Your  merriment  I kindly  take  ; 

And  only  wish  the  gods  would  give 
Such  jesting  ev’ry  day  I live.” 

The  ladies  press’d  his  longer  stay. 

But  Syntax  said — he  must  away  ; 

So  Grizzle  soon  her  master  bore, 

Some  new  adventure  to  explore. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


79 


CANTO  VIII. 

N ev’ry  way,  in 
ev’ry  sense, 

Man  is  the  care  of 
Providence  ; 

And  whensoe’er  he 
goeth  wrong, 

The  errors  to  him- 
self belong ; 

Nor  do  we  always  judge  aright 
Of  .Fortune’s  favours,  or  her  spite. 

How  oft,  with  pleasure,  we  pursue 
Some  glitt’ring  phantom  in  our  view  ! 

Not  rightly  seen  or  understood, 

We  chase  it  as  a real  good : 

At  length  the  air-born  vision  flies, 

And  each  fond  expectation  dies  ; 

Sometimes  the  clouds  appear  to  low’r, 

And  threat  misfortune’s  direful  hour  : 


80 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


We  tremble  at  the  approaching  blast ; 
Each  hope  is  fled — we  look  aghast : 
When,  lo  ! the  darkness  disappears, 

The  glowing  sun  all  nature  cheers  ; 

The  drooping  heart  again  acquires 
Its  former  joys,  its  former  fires. 

Last  night,  I wander’d  o’er  the  plain, 
Through  unknown  ways  and  beating  rain, 
Nor  thought  ’twould  be  my  lot  to  fall 
On  such  an  inn  as  Welcome  Hall; 
Indeed,  with  truth  I cannot  say, 

When  there  I came  I lost  my  way, 

For  all  was  good,  and  nought  to  pay.” 

Thus  Syntax,  with  reflection  fraught, 
Soliloquiz’d  the  moral  thought ; 

While  Grizzle,  all  alive  and  gay, 

Ambled  along  the  ready  way. 

Last  night  she  found  it  no  disaster 
To  share  the  fortune  of  her  master  ; 

She  ’mong  the  finest  hunters  stood, 

And  shar’d  with  them  the  choicest  food  : 
In  a fine  roomy  stable  plac’d, 

With  ev’ry  well-trimm’d  clothing  grac’d, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


81 


Poor  Grizzle  was  as  fair  a joke 
To  all  the  merry  stable-folk, 

As  the  good  Doctor’s  self  had  been 
To  the  kind  gentry  of  the  inn. 

Enrapt  in  contemplation’s  pow’r, 

Syntax  forgot  the  fleeting  hour  ; 

Till  looking  round,  he  saw  the  sun 
Had  past  his  bright  meridian  run. 

A shepherd-boy  he  now  espied, 

Strolling  along  the  highway  side  ; 

And,  on  his  wand’ring  flock  intent. 

The  stripling  whistled  as  he  went. 

“ My  honest  lad,  perhaps  you  know 
What  distance  I shall  have  to  go, 

Before  my  eager  eyes  may  greet 
Some  place  where  I may  drink  and  eat.” 

“ Continue,  Master,  o’er  the  Down, 

And  soon  you’ll  reach  the  neighb’ring  town  : 
In  less,  I think,  than  half  an  hour, 

You’ll  pass  by  yonder  lofty  tow’r ; 

Keep  onward  by  the  churchyard  wall, 

When  you  will  see  a house  of  call ; 

G 


82 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  sign’s  a Dragon — there  you’ll  find 
Eating  and  drinking  to  your  mind.” 

Across  the  Down  the  Doctor  went, 

And  towards  the  church  his  way  he  bent. 

“ Thus,”  Syntax  said,  “ when  man  is  hurl’d 
Upwards  and  downwards  in  the  world  ; 
When  some  strong  impulse  makes  him  stray, 
And  he,  perhaps,  has  lost  his  way  ; — 

The  Church, — Religion’s  holy  seat, 

Will  guide  to  peace  his  wand’ring  feet ! 

But,  hark  ! the  death-bell’s  solemn  toll 
Tells  the  departure  of  a soul ; 

The  Sexton,  too,  I see,  prepares 
The  place  where  end  all  human  cares. 

And,  lo,  a crowd  of  tombs  appear  ! 

I may  find  something  curious  here  ; 

For  oft  poetic  flowers  are  found 
To  flourish  in  sepulchral  ground. 

I’ll  just  walk  in  to  take  a look, 

And  pick  up  matter  for  my  book  : 

The  living,  some  wise  man  has  said, 

Delight  in  reading  of  the  dead. 

What  golden  gains  my  book  would  boast, 

If  I could  meet  a chatty  ghost, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  83 

Who  would  some  news  communicate 
Of  its  unknown  and  present  state  : 

Some  pallid  figure  in  a shroud, 

Or  sitting  on  a murky  cloud  : 

Or  kicking  up  a new-made  grave, 

And  screaming  forth  some  horrid  stave  ; 

Or  bursting  from  the  hollow  tomb, 

To  tell  of  bloody  deeds  to  come  ; 

Or  adverse  skeletons  embattling, 

With  ghastly  grins,  and  bones  a-rattling  ! 
Something  to  make  the  misses  stare, 

And  force  upright  their  curly  hair : 

To  cause  their  pretty  forms  to  shake, 

To  make  them  doubt  if  they’re  awake  ; 

And  thus,  to  tonish  folks,  present 
The  Picturesque  of  Sentiment ! 

But,  ’tis  I fear,  some  hours  too  soon — 

Ghosts  slumber  all  the  afternoon  : 

I ’ll  ask  the  Sexton,  if,  at  night, 

I may  perchance  pick  up  a sprite.” 

The  Doctor,  in  canonic  state, 

Now  op’d  at  once  the  church-yard  gate  ; 

While  Grizzle,  too,  thought  fit  to  pass, 


84  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Who  knew  the  taste  of  church-yard  grass 
“ Sir,”  cried  the  Sexton,  “ let  me  say 
That  you  must  take  your  mare  away  ; 

Or  else,  believe  me,  I am  bound 
To  lead  her  quickly  to  the  pound.” 


“ You  do  mistake,  iny  honest  friend  — 
*Tis  a foul  wrong  that  you  intend  : 

A Parson’s  mare  will  claim  a right 
In  a church-yard  to  take  a bite  ; 

And,  as  I come  to  meditate 
Among  these  signs  of  human  fate, 

I beg  you  will  not  make  a riot, 

But  let  the  poor  beast  feed  in  quiet.” 

No  more  the  conscious  Sexton  said, 

But  urg’d  his  labours  for  the  dead  ; 
While  Syntax  cull’d,  with  critic  care, 
What  the  sad  Muse  had  written  there. 


EPITAPHS. 

“ Here  lies  poor  Thomas  and  his  wife, 
Who  led  a pretty  jarring  life  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  85 

But  all  is  ended,  do  you  see  ? 

He  holds  his  tongue,  and  so  does  she.” 


“ If  drugs  and  physic  could  but  save 
Us  mortals  from  the  dreary  grave, 
’Tis  known  that  I took  full  enough 
Of  the  apothecary’s  stuff, 

To  have  prolong’d  life’s  busy  feast 
To  a full  century  at  least ; 

But,  spite  of  all  the  doctor’s  skill, 

Of  daily  draught  and  nightly  pill, 
Reader  ! as  sure  as  you’re  alive, 

I was  sent  here  at  twenty-five.” 


" Within  this  tomb  a lover  lies, 

Who  fell  an  early  sacrifice 
To  Dolly’s  unrelenting  eyes  ; 

For  Dolly’s  charms  poor  Damon  burn’d ; 
Disdain  the  cruel  maid  return’d  : 

But,  as  she  danc’d  in  May-day  pride, 
Dolly  fell  down,  and  Dolly  died, 

And  now  she  lies  by  Damon’s  side. 


86 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Be  not  hard-hearted,  then,  ye  fair  ! 
Of  Dolly’s  hapless  fate  beware  ! 
For  sure,  you’d  better  go  to  bed 
To  one  alive  than  one  who’s  dead.” 


K Beneath  the  sod  the  soldier  sleeps, 

Whom  cruel  War  refus’d  to  spare  : 

Beside  his  grave  the  maiden  weeps, 

And  Glory  plants  the  laurel  there. 

Honour  is  the  warrior’s  meed, 

Or  spar’d  to  live,  or  doom’d  to  die  ; 

Whether  it  is  his  lot  to  bleed, 

Or  join  the  shout  of  victory  ; 

Alike  the  laurel  to  the  truly  brave, 

That  binds  the  brow,  or  consecrates  the  grave.” 


“ Beneath  this  stone  her  ashes  rest, 
Whose  memory  fills  my  aching  breast ! 
She  sleeps  unconscious  of  the  tear 
That  tells  the  tale  of  sorrow  here  ; 

But  still  the  hope  allays  my  pain 
That  we  may  live  and  love  again  : 

0 


In  search  of  the  picturesque. 


87 


Love,  with  a pure  seraphic  fire, 
That  never,  never,  shall  expire.” 


Syntax  the  Sexton  now  address’d, 

As  on  his  spade  he  lean’d  to  rest. 

SYNTAX. 

“ We  both,  my  friend,  pursue  one  trade, 

I for  the  living,  you  the  dead. 

For  whom  that  grave  do  you  prepare 
With  such  keen  haste  and  cheerful  air  ?” 

SEXTON. 

“ An’  please  your  Kev’rence,  Lawyer  Thrust , 
Thank  Heav’n  ! will  moulder  here  to  dust. 
Never  before  did  I take  measure 
Of  any  grave  with  half  the  pleasure  ; 

And  when  within  this  hole  he’s  laid, 

I’ll  ram  the  earth  down  with  my  spade  : 

I’ll  take  good  care  he  shall  not  rise, 

Till  summon’d  to  the  last  assize  ; 


88 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And,  when  he  sues  for  Heaven’s  grace, 

I would  not  wish  to  take  his  place. 

He  once,  on  cruel  deed  intent, 

Seiz’d  on  my  goods  for  want  of  rent ; 
Nay,  I declare,  as  I’m  a sinner, 

He  took  away  the  children’s  dinner : 

For,  as  they  sat  around  the  table, 

Eating  as  fast  as  they  were  able, 

He  seiz’d  the  dishes,  great  and  small, 

The  children’s  bread  and  milk,  and  all ! 
The  urchins  cried,  the  mother  pray’d  ; 

I begg’d  his  rigour  might  be  stay’d, 

Till  I could  on  our  Parson  call, 

Who  would  engage  to  pay  it  all ; 

But  he  disdain’d  a parson’s  word, 

And  mock’d  the  suit  which  I preferr’d. 
He  knew  a better  way  to  thrive  ; 

To  pay  two  pounds  by  taking  five. 
Bursting  with  rage,  I knock’d  him  down, 
And  broke  the  cruel  rascal’s  crown ; 

For  which  in  county-gaol  I lay, 
Half-starving,  many  a bitter  day ; 

But  our  good  Parson  brought  relief, 

And  kindly  sooth’d  a mother’s  grief. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


89 


He,  while  in  prison  I remain’d, 

My  little  family  sustain’d  ; 

And  when  I was  from  durance  free, 

Made  me  his  Sexton,  as  you  see. 

But  Doctor  Worthy,  he  is  gone  ; 

You’ll  read  his  virtues  on  the  stone, 
That’s  placed  aloft  upon  the  wall, 

Where  you  may  see  the  ivy  crawl : 

Oh  ! while  his  ashes  rest  below, 

He’s  gone  where  all  the  righteous  go. 

I dug  his  grave  with  many  a moan, 

And  almost  wish’d  it  were  my  own. 

I daily  view  the  earthy  bed, 

Where  Death  has  laid  his  rev’rend  head  ; 
And  when  I see  a weed  appear, 

I pluck  it  up,  and  shed  a tear. 

The  parish  griev’d,  for  not  an  eye 
In  all  its  large  extent  was  dry, 

Save  one  ; — but  such  a kindly  grace 
Ne’er  deck’d  the  lawyer's  iron  face. 

The  aged  wept  a friend  long  known, 

The  young  a parent’s  loss  bemoan  : 

While  we,  alas  ! shall  long  deplore 
The  bounteous  patron  of  the  poor.” 


90 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  Doctor  heard,  with  tearful  eye, 
The  Sexton’s  grateful  eulogy : 

Then  sought  the  stone,  with  gentle  tread, 
As  fearing  to  disturb  the  dead, 

And  thus,  in  measur’d  tones,  he  read  : 

“ For  fifty  years  the  Pastor  trod 
The  way  commanded  by  his  God  : 

For  fifty  years  his  flock  he  fed 
With  that  divine  celestial  bread 
Which  nourishes  the  better  part, 

And  fortifies  man’s  failing  heart. 

His  wide,  his  hospitable  door 
Was  ever  open  to  the  poor  ; 

While  he  was  sought,  for  counsel  sage, 
By  ev’ry  rank,  and  ev’ry  age. 

That  counsel  sage  he  always  gave, 

To  warn,  to  strengthen,  and  to  save  : 

He  sought  the  sheep  that  went  astray, 
And  pointed  out  the  better  way  : 

But  while  he  with  his  smiles  approv’d 
The  virtue  he  so  dearly  lov’d, 

He  did  not  spare  the  harsher  part, 

To  probe  the  ulcer  to  the  heart ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  91 

He  sternly  gave  the  wholesome  pain 
That  brought  it  back  to  health  again. 

Thus,  the  commands  of  Heav’n  his  guide, 

He  liv’d, — and  then  in  peace  he  died.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Pray  tell  me,  friend,  who  now  succeeds 
This  Pastor,  fam’d  for  virtuous  deeds  ? ” 

SEXTON. 

“ A very  worthy,  pious  man, 

What  does  us  all  the  good  he  can  ; 

But  he,  good  Sir,  has  got  a wife  — 

SYNTAX. 

“ Who  may,  perhaps,  disturb  his  life  ; 

A tongue  sometimes  engenders  strife.” 

SEXTON. 

“No  : — she’s  a worthy  woman  too  ; 

But  then  they’ve  children  not  a few  ; 

I think  it  is  the  will  of  Heav’n 
That  they  are  bless’d  with  six  or  seven  ; 

And  then  you  will  agree  with  me, 

That  home’s  the  scene  of  charitv.” 


92 


TOUR  OP  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“ ’Tis  true  ; nor  can  your  Parson  preach 
A sounder  doctrine  than  you  teach. 

And  now,  good  Sexton,  let  me  ask, 

While  you  perform  your  mortal  task, 

As  day  and  night  you  frequent  tread 
The  dreary  mansions  of  the  dead, 

If  you,  in  very  truth,  can  boast, 

That  you  have  ever  seen  a ghost  ?” 

SEXTON. 

“ Your  Rev’rence,  no  ; — tho’  some  folks  say 
That  such  things  have  been  seen  as  they. 
Old  women  talk,  in  idle  chat, 

Of  ghosts  and  goblins,  and  all  that, 

While,  round  the  glimm’ring  fire  at  night, 
They  fill  their  hearers  with  affright. 

’Tis  said  that  Dr.  Worthy  walks, 

And  up  and  down  the  churchyard  stalks : 
That  often,  when  the  moon  shines  bright, 
His  form  appears  all  clad  in  white  : 

But  to  his  soul  it  is  not  given 

To  walk  on  earth — for  that’s  in  Heaven. 


IN  SEARCH  OP  THE  PICTURESQUE.  93 

All  hours  I have  cross’d  this  place, 

And  ne’er  beheld  a spirit’s  face. 

I something  saw,  both  large  and  white, 

Which  made  me  stop,  and  made  me  stare, — 
But  ’twas  the  Parson’s  grizzle  mare. 

Such  things  as  these,  I do  believe, 

The  foolish  people  oft  deceive  ; 

Amd  then  the  parish  gossips  talk 
How  witches  dance,  and  spectres  walk.” 

SYNTAX. 

<r  Your  reasoning  I much  commend  ; 

So  fare  you  well,  my  honest  friend. 

If  we  act  right,  we  need  not  dread 
Either  the  living  or  the  dead ; 

The  spirit  that  disturbs  our  rest 
Is  a bad  conscience  in  our  breast ; 

With  that  a man  is  doubly  curst 

SEXTON. 

“ That  spirit  haunted  Lawyer  Thrust .” 

SYNTAX. 

“ His  race  is  run,  his  work  is  o’er — 

The  wicked  man  can  sin  no  more  ; 


94  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

He’s  gone  where  justice  will  be  done 
To  all  who  live  beneath  the  sun  : 

And,  though  he  wrong’d  you  when  alive, 

Let  not  your  vengeance  thus  survive  : 

Forgive  him,  now  he’s  laid  so  low — 

Nor  trample  on  a fallen  foe. 

Once  more,  farewell ! But  ere  we  part, 
There’s  something  that  will  cheer  your  heart.” 

SEXTON. 

“ Your  Bev’rence,  ’twill  be  some  time  yet 
Ere  I forgive  ; — but  to  forget — 

No,  no  ; for  though  I may  forgive, 

I can’t  forget  him  while  I live. 

For  your  good  gift,  kind  Heaven  I bless, 

And  wish  you  health  and  happiness  : 

I thank  my  God,  each  coming  day, 

For  what  He  gives  and  takes  away ; 

And  now  I thank  Him,  good  and  just, 

That  He  has  taken  Lawyer  Thrust .” 

Syntax  along  the  village  pass’d, 

And  to  the  Dragon  came  at  last ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


95 


Where,  as  the  shepherd-boy  had  said, 
There  seem’d  to  be  a busy  trade  ; 

And,  seated  in  an  easy  chair, 

He  found  that  all  he  wish’d  was  there. 


VW\\\V 


96 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  IX. 

LONG  the  varying 
road  of  life, 

In  calm  content,  in 
toil  or  strife ; 

At  morn  or  noon, 
by  night  or  day, 
As  time  conducts  him 
on  his  way, 

How  oft  doth  man,  by  care  oppress’d, 

Find  in  an  inn  a place  of  rest ! 

Whether  intent  on  worldly  views, 

He,  in  deep  thought,  his  way  pursues  ; 
Whether  by  airy  pleasure  led, 

Or  by  hope’s  fond  delusions  fed, 

He  bids  adieu  to  home,  and  strays 
Through  unknown  paths  and  distant  ways  : 
Where’er  his  fancy  bids  him  roam, 

In  every  inn  he  finds  a home. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  97 

Should  Fortune  change  her  fav’ring  wind, 
Though  former  friends  should  prove  un- 
kind, 

Will  not  an  inn  his  cares  beguile, 

Where  on  each  face  he  sees  a smile  ? 

When  cold  winds  blow,  and  tempests  lower, 
And  the  rain  pours  in  angry  shower, 

The  dripping  traveler  looks  around, 

To  see  what  shelter  may  be  found  ; 

Then  on  he  drives,  through  thick  and  thin, 

To  the  warm  shelter  of  an  inn. 

Whoe’er  would  turn  their  wand-’ring  feet, 
Assur’d  the  kindest  smile  to  meet ; 

Whoe’er  would  go  and  not  depart 
But  with  kind  wishes  from  the  heart, 

Oh,  let  them  quit  the  world’s  loud  din, 

And  seek  the  comforts  of  an  inn  : 

And  as  the  Doric  Shenstone  sung, 

With  plaintive  music  on  his  tongue — 

“ Whoe’er  has  travell’d  life’s  dull  round, 
Where’er  his  changeful  tour  has  been, 

Will  sigh  to  think  how  oft  he  found 
His  warmest  welcome  at  an  inn.” 


h 


98 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


’Twas  at  an  inn,  in  calm  repose, 

Heedless  of  human  joys  or  woes, 

That  Syntax  pass’d  a quiet  night 
In  pleasing  dreams  and  slumbers  light ; 

But  in  the  mom  the  thunder  roar’d, 

The  clouds  their  streaming  torrents  pour’d  ; 
The  angry  winds  impetuous  blew, 

The  rattling  casement  open  flew  : 

Scar’d  at  the  noise,  he  rear’d  his  head  ; 
Then,  starting  quickly  from  the  bed, 

“ Is  it,”  he  cried,  “ the  day  of  doom  ? ” 

As  he  bestrode  the  trembling  room. 

The  houses’  tops  with  water  stream’d, 

The  village-street  a river  seem’d  ; 

While,  at  the  tempest,  all  amaz’d, 

The  rustics  from  their  windows  gaz’d. 

“ I ’m  not,”  he  said,  “ disposed  to  fear, 

But  ’tis  not  time  to  loiter  here  ; 

I’ll  change  the  scene,  and  quick  retire 
From  flaming  flash  to  kitchen  fire  ; 

Nay,  while  rude  Nature’s  threats  prevail, 
I’ll  lose  the  storm  in  toast  and  ale.” 
Half-dress’d  he  made  a quick  retreat, 

And  in  the  kitchen  took  his  seat, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  99 

Where  an  old  woman  told  the  host, 

What  by  the  lightning  she  had  lost ; 

How  a blue  flash  her  sow  had  struck, 

Had  kill’d  a cock  and  lam’d  a duck  ! 

With  open  mouth  another  came, 

To  tell  a rick  was  in  a flame, 

And  then  declar’d  that  on  the  spire 
He  saw  the  weathercock  on  fire  ; 

Nay,  that  so  loud  the  winds  were  singing, 
They’d  set  the  peal  of  bells  a-ringing  ! 

A dripping  tailor  enter’d  next, 

And  preach’d  upon  the  self-same  text : 

He  swore  that,  sitting  on  his  board, 

WThile  the  wind  blew,  and  thunder  roar’d, 

A kind  of  fiery  flame  came  pop, 

And  bounc’d,  and  ran  about  his  shop  ; 

Now  here,  now  there,  so  quick  and  nimble, 

It  singed  his  finger  through  his  thimble  ; 

That  all  about  his  needles  ran, 

If  there  was  any  truth  in  man ; 

While  buttons,  at  least  half-a-score, 

Were  driven  through  the  kitchen-door  ! 

The  Sexton,  with  important  mien, 

Gave  his  opinion  on  the  scene  ; 

h 2 


100  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

And,  to  the  Doctor  drawing  near, 

Thus  gently  whisper’d  in  his  ear  : 

“ The  Devil  himself  his  cell  has  burst, 
To  fly  away  with  Lawyer  Thrust 

Now  having  with  due  patience  heard 
The  story  which  each  wight  preferr’d, 
Syntax  was  to  the  parlour  shown, 

Where  he  might  breakfast  all  alone. 

“ I see,”  said  he,  “ I here  must  stay, 
And  at  the  Dragon  pass  the  day : 

And  this  same  Dragon,  on  my  life, 

Just  hints  that  I have  got  a wife  ; 

Nor  can  I pass  the  morning  better, 

Than  to  indite  this  wife  a letter.” 

He  paus’d  and  sigh’d  ere  he  began, 
When  thus  the  fond  epistle  ran : — 

“ My  dearest  Doll, — Full  many  a day 
From  you  and  home  I’ve  been  away ; 
But,  though  we  thus  are  doom’d  to  part, 
You’re  ever  present  in  my  heart : 
Whene’er  my  prayers  to  Heav’n  arise, 

At  morn  or  ev’ning  sacrifice, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  101 

Whene’er  for  Heaven’s  care  they  sue, 

I ask  it  for  my  Dolly  too. 

My  journey,  like  life’s  common  road, 

Has  had  its  evils  and  its  good ; 

But  I’ve  no  reason  to  complain, 

When  pleasure  has  outweigh’d  the  pain  ; 
With  flatt’ring  Fortune  in  my  view, 

Glad  I the  toilsome  way  pursue  ; 

For  I’ve  no  fear  to  make  a book, 

In  which  the  world  will  like  to  look  ; 

Nor  do  I doubt  will  prove  a mine 
For  my  own  comfort,  and  for  thine  ! 

But  should  all  fail,  I’ve  found  a friend 
In  my  old  school-mate,  Dicky  Bend  ; 

Who,  kind  and  wealthy,  will  repay, 

If  Hope  should  cheat  me  on  the  way, 

My  ev’ry  loss  I may  sustain, 

And  ease  ill-fortune  of  its  pain  : 

He  has  engag’d  to  glad  our  home, 

With  promise  of  much  good  to  come. 
Particulars  of  what  I’ve  seen, 

What  I have  done,  where  I have  been, 

I shall  reserve  for  my  return, 

When,  as  the  crackling  faggots  burn, 


102  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

I will,  in  all  domestic  glory, 

Smoke  out  my  pipe,  and  tell  my  story. 
But  be  assur’d  I ’m  free  from  danger  ; 

To  the  world’s  tricks  I ’m  not  a stranger 
Whatever  risks  I ’m  forc’d  to  run, 

I shall  take  care  >of  number  one  ; 

While  you,  at  home,  will  keep  in  view 
The  self-same  care  of  number  two. 

To  my  kind  neighbours  I commend 
The  wishes  of  their  distant  friend  : 
Within  ten  days,  perhaps  a week, 

I shall  York’s  famous  city  seek, 
Where,  at  the  post,  I hope  to  find 
A line  from  Dolly,  ever  kind. 

And,  if  you  will  the  pleasure  crown, 
Tell  me  the  prattle  of  our  town ; 

Of  all  that’s  passing,  and  has  past, 
Since  your  dear  Hub  beheld  it  last : 
And  know  the  truth  which  I impart, 
The  offspring  of  my  honest  heart, 

That  wheresoe’er  I’m  doom’d  to  roam, 

I still  shall  find  that  Home  is  home  : 
That,  true  to  Love  and  nuptial  vows, 

I shall  remain  your  loving  spouse. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  103 

Such  are  the  tender  truths  I tell ; 

Conjux  carissima — farewell ! ” 

Thus  he  his  kindest  thoughts  reveal’d — 

But  scarce  had  he  the  letter  seal’d, 

When  straight  appear’d  the  trembling  host, 
Looking  as  pale  as  any  ghost : — 

“ A man’s  just  come  into  the  town, 

Who  says  the  castle’s  tumbled  down, 

And  that,  with  one  tremendous  blow, 

The  lightning’s  force  has  laid  it  low.” 

“ What  castle,  friend  ?”  the  Doctor  cried. 

“ The  castle  by  the  river  side  ; 

A famous  place,  where,  as  folk  say, 

Some  great  king  liv’d  in  former  day : 

But  this  fine  building  long  has  been 
A sad  and  ruinated  scene, 

Where  owls,  and  bats,  and  starlings  dwell, — 
And  where,  alas  ! as  people  tell, 

At  the  dark  hour,  when  midnight  reigns, 

Ghosts  walk,  all  arm’d,  and  rattle  chains.” 

“ Peace,  peace  !”  said  Syntax,  “ peace,  my  friend. 
Nor  to  such  tales  attention  lend. — 


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TOUR  OP  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  this  new  thought  I must  pursue  : 

A castle,  and  a ruin  too  ! 

I’ll  hasten  there,  and  take  a view.” 

The  storm  was  past,  and  many  a ray 
Of  Phoebus  now  reviv’d  the  day, 

When  Grizzle  to  the  door  was  brought, 
And  this  fam’d  spot  the  Doctor  sought. 
Upon  a rock  the  castle  stood, 

Three  sides  environ’d  by  a flood, 

Where  confluent  streams  uniting  lave 
The  craggy  rift  with  foaming  wave. 
Around  the  moss-clad  walls  he  walk’d, 
Then  through  the  inner  chambers  stalk’d, 
And  thus  exclaim’d,  with  look  profound. 
The  echoes  giving  back  the  sound : 

“ Let  me  expatiate  here  awhile  : 

I think  this  antiquated  pile 
Is,  doubtless,  in  the  Saxon  style. 

This  was  a noble  spacious  hall, 

But  why  the  chapel  made  so  small  ? 

I fear  our  fathers  took  more  care 
Of  festive  hall  than  house  of  prayer. 

I find  these  Barons  fierce  and  bold, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  105 

Who  proudly  liv’d  in  days  of  old, 

To  pray’r  preferr’d  a sumptuous  treat, 

Nor  went  to  pray  when  they  could  eat. 

Here  all  along  the  banners  hung, 

And  here  the  welcome  minstrels  sung  ; 

The  walls,  with  glitt’ring  arms  bedight, 
Display’d  an  animating  sight : 

Beneath  that  archway,  once  a gate, 

With  helmed  crest,  in  warlike  state, 

The  bands  march’d  forth,  nor  fear’d  the  toil 
Of  bloody  war  that  gave  the  spoil. 

But  now,  alas  ! no  more  remains 
Than  will  reward  the  painter’s  pains  : 

The  palace  of  the  feudal  victor 

Now  serves  for  nought  but  for  a picture. 

Plenty  of  water  here  I see, 

But  what’s  a view  without  a tree  ? 

There’s  something  grand  in  yonder  tower, 

But  not  a shrub  to  make  a bower  ; 

Howe’er,  I’ll  try  to  take  the  view, 

As  well  as  my  best  art  can  do.” 

A heap  of  stones  the  Doctor  found, 

Which  loosely  lay  upon  the  ground, 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  form  a seat,  where  he  might  trace 
The  antique  beauty  of  the  place  : 


Page  107. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  107 

But,  while  his  eye  observ’d  the  line 
That  was  to  limit  the  design, 

The  stones  gave  way,  and, — sad  to  tell ! — 
Down  from  the  bank  he  headlong  fell. 

The  slush,  collected  for  an  age, 

Receiv’d  the  venerable  Sage  ; 

For,  at  the  time,  the  ebbing  flood 
Was  just  retreating  from  the  mud  : 

But,  after  floundering  about, 

Syntax  contriv’d  to  waddle  out, 

Half-stunn’d,  amaz’d,  and  cover’d  o’er 
As  seldom  wight  had  been  before. 
O’erwhelm’d  with  filth,  and  stink,  and  grief, 
He  saw  no  house  to  give  relief ; 

And  thus,  amid  the  village  din, 

He  ran  the  gauntlet  to  the  inn. 

An  angler  threw  his  hook  so  pat, 

He  caught  at  once  the  Doctor’s  hat 
A bathing  boy,  who  naked  stood, 

Dash’d  boldly  in  the  eddying  flood 
And,  swimming  onward  like  a grig, 

Soon  overtook  the  Doctor’s  wig. 

Grizzle  had  trac’d  the  barren  spot, 

Where  not  a blade  of  grass  was  got ; 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And,  finding  nought  to  tempt  her  stay, 
She  to  the  Dragon  took  her  way. 

The  ostler  cried,  “ Here’s  some  disaster, — 
The  mare’s  return’d  without  her  master  ! ” 
But  soon  he  came,  amid  the  noise 
Of  men  and  women,  girls  and  boys  : 

Glad  in  the  inn  to  find  retreat 
From  the  rude  insults  of  the  street. 

Undress’d,  well  wash’d,  and  put  to  bed, 
With  mind  disturb’d,  and  aching  head, 

In  vain  poor  Syntax  sought  repose, 

But  lay  and  counted  all  his  woes. 

The  friendly  host,  with  anxious  care, 

Now  hastes  the  posset  to  prepare  : — 

The  cordial  draught  he  kindly  gives  ; 
Which  Syntax  with  a smile  receives  : 
Then  seeks,  in  sleep,  a pause  from  sorrow, 
In  hopes  of  better  fate  to-morrow. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  109 


CANTO  X. 

3 OR  mortal  man,  in 
ev’ry  state 

What  troubles  and 
what  ills  await ! 

His  transient  joy  is 
chas’d  by  sorrow, 
To-day  he’s  blest ; — 
a wretch  to-morrow. 
"When  in  the  world  he  first  appears, 

He  hails  the  light  with  cries  and  tears  : 

A school-boy  next,  he  fears  the  nod 
Of  pedant  pow’r,  and  feels  the  rod : 

When  to  an  active  stripling  grown, 

The  Passions  seize  him  as  their  own ; 

Now  lead  him  here,  now  drive  him  there, 

The  alternate  sport  of  Joy  and  Care  ; 

Allure  him  with  their  glitt’ring  treasure, 

Or  give  the  brimming  cup  of  pleasure  ; 


110 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


While  one  eludes  his  eager  haste, 

The  other  palls  upon  the  taste. 

The  pointed  darts  from  Cupid’s  quiver 
Wound  his  warm  heart,  and  pierce  his  liver 
While,  charm’d  by  fair  Belinda’s  eyes, 

He  dines  on  groans,  and  sups  on  sighs. 

If  from  this  gay  and  giddy  round 
He  should  escape  both  safe  and  sound, 
Perhaps,  if  all  things  else  miscarry, 

He  takes  it  in  his  head  to  marry : 

And  in  this  lottery  of  life, 

If  he  should  draw  a scolding  wife, 

With  a few  children,  eight  or  ten 
(For  such  things  happen  now  and  then), 
Poor  hapless  man  ! he  knows  not  where 
To  look  around  without  a care  : 

Ambition,  in  its  airy  flight, 

May  tempt  him  to  some  giddy  height ; 

But,  ere  the  point  he  can  attain, 

He  tumbles,  ne’er  to  rise  again : 

Pale  Av’rice  may  his  heart  possess, 

The  bane  of  human  happiness, 

Which  never  feels  for  others’  woe, 

Nor  ever  does  a smile  bestow  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  Ill 

A wretched,  meagre,  griping  elf, 

A foe  to  all,  and  to  himself : 

Then  comes  Disease,  with  baneful  train, 

And  the  pale  family  of  Pain  : 

Till  Death  appears  in  awful  state, 

And  calls  him  to  the  realms  of  Fate. 

How  oft  is  Virtue  seen  to  feel 
The  woful  turn  of  Fortune’s  wheel, 

While  she  with  golden  stores  awaits 
The  wicked  in  their  very  gates  ! 

But  Virtue  still  the  value  knows 
Of  honest  deeds,  and  can  repose 
Upon  the  flint  her  naked  head, 

While  Vice  lays  restless  on  the  bed 
Of  softest  down,  and  courts  in  vain 
The  opiate  to  relieve  its  pain. 

It  was  not  Vice  that  e’er  could  keep 
Dear  Syntax  from  refreshing  sleep  ; 

For  no  foul  thought,  no  wicked  art, 

In  his  pure  life  e’er  bore  a part. 

Some  ailment  dire  his  slumbers  broke, 

And,  ere  the  sun  arose  he  ’woke  ; 

When  such  a tremor  o’er  him  pass’d, 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


He  thought  that  hour  would  prove  his  last. 
His  limbs  were  all  besieg’d  by  pain  ; 

He  now  grew  hot,  then  cold  again  : 

His  tongue  was  parch’d,  his  lips  were  dry, 
And,  heaving  the  unbidden  sigh, 

He  rang  the  bell,  and  call’d  for  aid, 

Then  groan’d  so  loud,  th’  affrighted  maid 
Spread  the  alarm  throughout  the  house  ; 
When  straight  the  landlord  and  his  spouse 
Made  all  despatch  to  do  their  best, 

And  ease  the  sufferings  of  their  guest. 

“ Have  you  a doctor  ?”  Syntax  said ; 

“ If  not,  I shortly  shall  be  dead.” 

0 yes ; a very  famous  man  ; 

He’ll  cure  you,  Sir,  if  physic  can  : 

1 ’ll  fetch  him  quick ; — a man  renown’d 
For  his  great  skill  the  country  round.” 

The  Landlord  soon  the  Doctor  brought, 
Whose  words  were  grave,  whose  looks  were 
thought : 

By  the  bed-side  he  took  his  stand, 

And  felt  the  patient’s  burning  hand ; 

Then,  with  a scientific  face, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  113 

He  told  the  symptoms  of  the  case. 

“ His  frame’s  assail’d  with  fev’rish  heats  ; 


His  pulse  with  rapid  movement  beats  ; 
And  now,  I think,  ’twould  do  him  good 

i 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Were  he  to  lose  a little  blood  : 

Some  other  useful  matters,  too, 

To  ease  his  pain,  I have  in  view. 

I’ll  just  step  home,  and,  in  a trice, 

Will  bring  the  fruits  of  my  advice  ; 

In  the  meantime,  his  thirst  assuage 
With  tea  that’s  made  of  balm  or  sage,” 
He  soon  return’d — his  skill  applied — 
From  the  vein  flow’d  the  crimson  tide, 
And,  as  the  folk  behind  him  stand, 

He  thus  declar’d  his  stern  command  : 

“ At  nine,  these  powders  let  him  take  ; 
At  ten,  this  draught — the  phial  shake  ; 
And  you’ll  remember,  at  eleven, 

Three  of  these  pills  must  then  be  given  ; 
This  course  you’ll  carefully  pursue, 

And  give,  at  twelve,  the  bolus  too  : 

If  he  should  wander,  in  a crack 
Clap  this  broad  blister  on  his  back  ; 

And,  after  he  has  had  the  blister, 

Within  an  hour  apply  the  clyster . 

I must  be  gone  ; at  three  or  four, 

I shall  return  with  something  more? 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  115 

Now  Syntax  and  his  fev’rish  state 
Became  the  subject  of  debate. 

The  mistress  said  she  was  afraid 
No  medicine  would  give  him  aid ; 

For  she  had  heard  the  screech-owl  scream, 
And  had  besides  a horrid  dream. 

Last  night,  the  candle  burn’d  so  blue  ; 

While  from  the  fire  a coffin  flew  ; 

And,  as  she  sleepless  lay  in  bed, 

She  heard  a death-watch  at  her  head. 

The  maid  and  ostler  too  declar’d 
That  noises  strange  they  both  had  heard. 

“ Ay,”  cried  the  Sexton,  “ these  portend 
To  the  sick  man  a speedy  end  ; 

And,  when  that  I have  drunk  my  liquor, 

I’ll  e’en  go  straight  and  fetch  the  Vicar.” 


The  Vicar  came,  a worthy  man, 

And  like  a good  Samaritan, 
Approach’d  in  haste  the  stranger’s  bed, 
Where  Syntax  lay  with  aching  head  ; 
And,  without  any  fuss  or  pother, 

He  offer’d  to  his  rev’rend  brother 

i 2 


116 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


His  purse,  his  house,  and  all  the  care 
Which  a kind  heart  would  give  him  there. 

Says  Syntax,  in  a languid  voice, 

“ You  make  my  very  soul  rejoice  ; 

For,  if  within  this  house  I stay, 

My  flesh  will  soon  be  turn’d  to  clay ; 

For  the  good  Doctor  means  to  pop 
Into  my  stomach  all  his  shop. 

I think,  dear  Sir,  that  I could  eat, 

And  physic’s  but  a nauseous  treat : 

If  all  that  stuff’s  to  be  endur’d, 

I shall  be  kill’d  in  being  cur’d.” 
u Oh,”  said  the  Vicar,  “ never  fear ; 

We’ll  leave  the  apparatus  here. 

Come,  quit  your  bed — I pray  you,  come  ; 
This  arm  shall  bear  you  to  my  home, 
Where  I and  my  dear  mate  will  find 
Med’cine  more  suited  to  your  mind.” 

Syntax  now  rose,  but  feeble  stood, 

From  want  of  food  and  loss  of  blood ; 

But  still  he  ventur’d  to  repair 
To  the  good  Vicar’s  house  and  care  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  117 

And  found  at  dinner  pretty  picking, 

In  pudding  boil’d  and  roasted  chicken. 

Again,  ’twas  honest  Grizzle’s  fate 
To  take  her  way  through  church-yard  gate  ; 
And,  undisturb’d,  once  more  to  riot 
In  the  green  feast  of  church-yard  diet. 

The  Vicar  was  at  Oxford  bred, 

And  had  much  learning  in  his  head ; 

But,  what  was  far  the  better  part, 

He  had  much  goodness  in  his  heart ; 

He  also  had  a charming  wife, 

The  pride  and  pleasure  of  his  life  ; 

A loving,  kind,  and  friendly  creature, 

As  blest  in  virtue  as  in  feature, 

Who,  without  blisters,  drugs,  or  pills, 

Her  patient  cur’d  of  all  his  ills. 

Three  days  he  stay’d,  a welcome  guest, 

And  ate  and  drank  of  what  was  best ; 

When,  on  the  fourth,  in  health  renew’d, 

His  anxious  journey  he  pursu’d. 

In  two  days  more,  before  his  eyes 
The  stately  towers  of  York  arise. 
i But  what,”  said  he,  “ can  all  this  mean  ? 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


What  is  yon  crowded  busy  scene  ? 

Ten  thousand  souls,  I do  maintain, 

Arq  scatter’d  over  yonder  plain.” 

“ Ay,  more  than  that,”  a man  replied, 

Who  trotted  briskly  by  his  side, 

“ And  if  you  choose,  I ’ll  be  your  guide  : 

For  sure  you  will  not  pass  this  way, 

Aud  miss  the  pleasure  of  the  day  : 

These  are  the  Faces,  to  whose  sport 
Nobles  and  gentry  all  resort.” 

Thought  Syntax,  I ’ll  just  take  a look ; 

’Twill  give  a subject  to  my  book. 

So  on  they  went ; — the  highway  friend 
His  services  did  thus  commend 
“ I will  attend  you  to  the  course, 

And  tell  the  name  of  ev’ry  horse  ; 

But  first  we’ll  go  and  take  a wet, 

And  then  I ’ll  teach  you  how  to  bet ; 

I’ll  name  the  horse  that’s  doom’d  to  win — 
We’ll  take  the  knowing  fellows  in.” 

Just  as  he  spoke,  the  sports  began ; 

The  jockeys  whipp’d,  the  horses  ran  ; 

And,  when  the  coursers  reach’d  the  post, 

The  man  scream’d  out — “ Your  horse  has  lost.  I 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


119 


I’ve  had  the  luck — I’ve  won  the  day, 
And  you  have  twenty  pounds  to  pay. 


Syntax  look’d  wild — the  man  said  “ Zounds  ! 
You  know  you  betted  twenty  pounds  ; 

So  pay  them  down,  or  you’ll  fare  worse, 


120 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


For  I will  flog  you  off  the  course.” 

The  Doctor  rav’d,  and  disavow’d 
The  bold  assertion  to  the  crowd. 

What  would  have  been  his  hapless  fate, 

In  this  most  unexpected  state, 

May  well  be  guess’d  : but,  lo  ! a Mend 
Fortune  was  kind  enough  to  send. 

An  honest  ’Squire,  who  smok’d  the  trick, 
Appear’d  well  arm’d  with  oaken  stick, 

And  placing  many  a sturdy  blow 
Upon  the  shoulders  of  the  foe, 

“ It  is  with  all  my  soul  I beat 
This  vile,  this  most  notorious  cheat,” 

The  ’Squire  exclaim’d ; “ and  you,  good  folk, 
Who  sometimes  love  a pleasant  joke, 

As  I am  partly  tired  of  thumping, 

Should  treat  the  scoundrel  with  a pumping.” 
The  crowd,  with  their  commission  pleas’d, 
Eudely  the  trembling  Black-leg  seiz’d, 

WTko,  to  their  justice  forc’d  to  yield, 

Soon  ran  off  dripping  from  the  field. 

Syntax  his  simple  story  told  ; — 

The  ’Squire,  as  kind  as  he  was  bold, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  121 

His  full  protection  now  affords, 

And  cheer’d  him  both  with  wine  and  words. 

“ I love  the  Clergy  from  my  heart, 

And  always  take  a*parson’s  part. 

My  father,  Doctor,  wore  the  gown  ; 

A better  man  was  never  known  : 

But  an  old  uncle,  a poor  elf, 

Who,  to  save  riches,  starv’d  himself, 

By  his  last  will  bequeath’d  me  clear 
At  least  two  thousand  pounds  a year, 

And  sav’d  me  all  the  pains  at  college, 

To  pore  o’er  books  and  aim  at  knowledge : 
Thus  free  from  care,  I live  at  ease  ; 

Go  where  I will,  do  what  I please  ; 

Pursue  my  sports,  enjoy  my  pleasure, 

Nor  envy  lords  their  splendid  treasure. 

I have  a house  at  York  beside, 

Where  you  shall  go  and  straight  reside, 

And  ev’ry  kindness  shall  be  shown, 

Both  for  my  Dad’s  sake,  and  your  own  : 

For  know,  good,  Sir,  I ’m  never  loth 
To  mark  my  friendship  for  the  Cloth. 

Hearty' s my  name,  and  you  shall  find, 

A welcome,  Doctor,  to  your  mind 


122  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

And  I Ve  a wife  so  blithe  and  gay, 

Who  ne’er  says  yes  when  I say  nay” 
Syntax  observ’d,  “ that  was  a blessing 
A man  might  boast  of  in  possessing.” 

At  length  arriv’d,  a lady  fair 
Deceiv’d  them  with  a winning  air. 
u Ah,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ I always  come, 
“ My  dearest  girl,  with  pleasure  home  : 
You  see  a rev’rend  Doctor  here, 

So  give  him  of  your  choicest  cheer : ” 

“ Yes”  she  replied,  “ Oh,  yes , my  dear.” 

“ Nor  fail  all  kindness  to  bestow 
“ Oh,  no , my  dear,”  she  said  ; “ Oh,  no” 
Thus  happy  Syntax  joined  the  party 
Of  Madam  and  of  ’Squire  Hearty . 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  123 


CANTO  XL 

N this  sad,  variegated 
life, 

Evil  and  good,  in  daily 
strife, 

Contend,  we  find,  which 
shall  he  master : 
Now  Fortune  smiles — 
then  sad  disaster 
Assumes,  in  turn,  its  frowning  power, 

And  gives  to  man  his  chequer’d  hour. 

With  chequer’d  hours  good  Syntax  thought,— 
And  well  he  might, — his  journey  fraught ; 

But  still  he  hop’d,  when  all  was  past, 

That  he  should  comfort  find  at  last. 

Thus,  with  unlook’d-for  kindness  blest, 

No  fears  alarm  his  tranquil  breast ; 

He  eats,  and  drinks,  and  goes  to  rest ; 

And  when  the  welcome  morrow  came, 


124 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  ’Squire  and  Madam  were  the  same. 
Just  as  the  Minster-clock  struck  nine, 
Coffee  and  tea,  and  fowl  and  chine, 
Appear’d  in  all  their  due  array, 

To  give  the  breakfast  of  the  day. 

The  ’Squire  then  the  talk  began, 

And  thus  the  conversation  ran : — 

’SQUIRE  HEARTY. 

“ Doctor,  you  truly  may  believe 
The  pleasure  which  I now  receive 
In  seeing  you,  as  you  sit  there, 

On  what  was  once  my  father’s  chair. 

I pray  you,  think  this  house  your  home, — 
Ay,  though  it  were  three  months  to  come. 
Here  you  will  find  yourself  at  ease — 

May  read  or  write — -just  as  you  please. 

At  nine  we  breakfast,  as  you  see  ; 

Dinner  is  always  here  at  three  ; 

At  six,  my  wife  will  give  you  tea.” 

MRS.  HEARTY. 

“ And  should  you  find  the  evening  long, 
I’ll  play  a tune  and  sing  a song.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  125 


’SQUIRE  HEARTY. 

“Besides,  you’ll  range  the  country  round, 
Some  curious  things  may  there  be  found : 
Your  genius  too  may  chance  to  trace, 
Within  this  celebrated  place, 

Some  ancient  building  worth  a look, 

That  may,  perhaps,  enrich  your  book. 

I’m  a true  Briton,  as  you  see  ; 

I love  good  cheer,  and  liberty ; 

And  what  I love  myself,  I’ll  give 
To  others,  while  I ’m  doom’d  to  live. 

This  morning  I intend  to  go 
To  see  the  military  show. 

The  light  dragoons,  now  quarter’d  here, 
Will  all  in  grand  review  appear : 

They  are  a regiment  of  renown, 

And  some  great  general  is  come  down 
To  see  them  all,  in  bright  array, 

Act  the  fierce  battle  of  the  day. 

If  you  should  like  such  sights  as  these, — 
If  warlike  feats  your  fancy  please, 

We’ll  to  the  common  take  a ride, 

And  I myself  will  be  your  guide  : 


126 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


So,  if  you  please,  within  an  hour 
Our  nags  shall  be  before  the  door.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I will  be  ready  to  attend 

The  summons  of  my  worthy  friend. 

The  laurell’d  hero’s  my  delight, 

With  plumed  crest  and  helmet  bright : 
E ’en  when  a boy,  at  early  age, 

I read  in  Homer’s  lofty  page 

How  the  stout  Greeks,  in  times  of  yore, 

Brought  havoc  to  the  Phrygian  shore  : 

I revell’d  in  that  ancient  story, 

And  burn’d  with  ardent  love  of  glory. 
Whene’er  I trac’d  the  fields  of  Troy, 

My  heart  beat  high  with  martial  joy. 
’Tis  true,  I pray  that  war  may  cease, 
And  Europe  hail  returning  peace  ; 

Yet  still  I feel  my  bosom  glow, 

When  British  heroes  meet  the  foe  ; 
When  our  arm’d  legions  make  him  fly, 
And  yield  the  palm  of  victory  ; 

Or  when  our  naval  thunders  roar, 

And  terrify  the  Gallic  shore. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

This  grand  review  will  give  me  pleasure, 
And  I shall  wait  upon  your  leisure.” 

But,  as  no  time  was  to  be  lost, 

Syntax  now  hasten’d  to  the  post : 

The  post  obey’d  his  loud  command, 

And  gave  a letter  to  his  hand. 

With  eager  haste  the  seal  he  broke, 

And  thus  the  fond  epistle  spoke  : — 

“ My  dearest  husband — on  my  life, 

I thought  you  had  forgot  your  wife  ; 
While  she,  to  her  affection  true, 

Was  always  thinking,  Love,  on  you. 

By  this  time,  I presume,  you’ve  made 
No  small  advancement  in  your  trade  : 

I mean,  my  dear,  that  this  same  book, 

To  which  I with  impatience  look, 

Is  full  of  promise ; and  I ’m  bold 
To  hope  for  a return  in  gold. 

I have  no  doubt  that  ample  gains 
Will  well  reward  your  learned  pains, 
And,  with  a bounteous  store,  repay 
Your  anxious  toil  of  many  a day ; 


128 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


For  well,  my  dearest  friend,  I know, 

Where’er  you  are  compell’d  to  go, 

You  still  must  sigh  that  you  should  be 
So  long  away  from  love  and  me. 

I truly  say,  my  heart  doth  burn 
With  ardent  wish  for  your  return  ; 

And  that  I may  my  Syntax  greet 
With  all  due  honour  when  we  meet, 

The  milliner  is  now  preparing 
A dress  that  will  be  worth  the  wearing  ; 

A robe  of  crape,  with  satin  boddice, 

Will  make  me  look  like  any  goddess  ; 

A mantle,  too,  is  all  the  ton, 

And  therefore  I have  order’d  one  : 

I ’ve  also  got  a lilac  bonnet, 

And  plac’d  a yellow  feather  on  it : 

Thus  I shall  be  so  very  smart, 

’Twill  vex  Miss  Kaisin  to  the  heart ! 

Oh  ! it  will  make  me  burst  with  laughter, 

To  plague  the  purse-proud  Grocer’s  daughter  ; 
While  through  the  town,  as  you  shall  see, 

No  one  will  be  so  fine  as  me. 

Oh  ! with  what  pleasure  and  delight 
I shall  present  me  to  your  sight ! 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  129 

How  shall  I hug  you,  dearest  honey, 

When  you  return,  brimful  of  money  ! ” 

Syntax  exclaim’d,  in  accents  sad, 

“ The  woman’s  surely  gone  stark  mad  ! 

To  ruin,  all  her  airs  will  tend  ; 

But  I ’ll  read  on,  and  see  the  end.” 

“ As  to  the  news,  why,  you  must  know, 
Things  in  their  usual  order  go  : 

J obson  the  Tanner’s  run  away ; 

And  has  not  left  a doit  to  pay ; 

Bet  Bumpkin  was  last  Thursday  married  ; 
And  Mrs.  Stillborn  has  miscarried. 

In  the  High-street,  the  other  day, 

Good  Mrs.  Squeamish  swoon’d  away, 

And  was  so  ill,  as  it  is  said, 

That  she  was  borne  away  for  dead  ; 

But  Mother  Gossip,  who  knows  all 

The  neighbours  round,  both  great  and  small, 

Has  hinted  to  me,  as  she  thinks, 

That  pious  Mrs.  Squeamish  drinks. 

There  is  a lady  just  come  down, 

A dashing,  frisky  dame,  from  town, 

To  visit  Madam  Stapleton ; 

K 


130 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


She’s  said  to  be  a London  toast, 

But  has  no  mighty  charms  to  boast ; 

For  it  is  clear  to  my  keen  sight, 

That  she  lays  on  both  red  and  white. 

She  drives  about  in  chaise  and  pair, 

And,  I have  heard,  can  curse  and  swear : 
But  I mind  not  these  things,  not  I, 

I never  deal  in  calumny. 

So  fare  you  well,  my  dearest  life, — 

And  I remain  your  loving  wife.” 

POSTSCRIPT. 

“ But  if  you  fear  that  you  shall  come 
Without  a bag  of  money  home, 

’Twere  better  far  that  you  should  take 
A leap  at  once  into  the  Lake  : 

I’d  rather  hear  that  you  were  drown’d, 

Than  that  you  should  my  hopes  confound  ! ” 


These  tender  lines  did  not  impart 
Much  comfort  to  the  Doctor’s  heart ; 

He  therefore  thought  it  would  be  better 
To  lay  aside  this  pretty  letter ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Nor  suffer  its  contents  to  sour 
The  pleasure  of  the  present  hour. 

The  ’Squire  now  became  his  guide, 

So  off  they  trotted,  side  by  side  ; 

And,  ere  they  pass’d  a mile  or  two, 
Beheld  the  scene  of  the  review. 

The  troops  drawn  up  in  proud  array, 

An  animating  sight  display ; 

The  well-form’d  squadrons  wheel  around. 
The  standards  wave,  the  trumpets  sound, 
When  Grizzle,  long  inur’d  to  war, 

And  not  without  an  honour’d  scar, 
Found  all  her  former  spirits  glow, 

As  when  she  used  to  meet  the  foe : 

No  ears  she  prick’d,  for  she  had  none  : 
Nor  cock’d  her  tail,  for  that  was  gone  ; 
But  still  she  snorted,  foam’d  and  flounc’d 
Then  up  she  rear’d,  and  off  she  bounc’d; 
And,  having  play’d  these  pretty  pranks, 
Dash’d  all  at  once  into  the  ranks  ! 

While  Syntax,  though  unus’d  to  fear, 
Suspected  that  his  end  was  near. 

But,  though  his  courage  ’gan  to  addle, 

K 2 


132 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


He  still  stuck  close  upon  his  saddle ; 

While  to  the  trumpets  on  the  hill, 

Grizzle  sped  fast,  and  then  stood  still : 
With  them  she  clos’d  her  warlike  race, 
And  took  with  pride  her  ancient  place ; 
For  Grizzle,  as  we’ve  told  before, 

Once  to  the  wars  a trumpet  bore. 

At  length,  recover’d  from  his  fright, 

The  Doctor  stay’d,  and  view’d  the  sight ; 
And  then,  with  heart  as  light  as  cork, 

He  with  his  friend  jogg’d  back  to  York, 
Where  was  renew’d  the  friendly  fare, 

And  ev’ry  comfort  promis’d  there. 

The  time  in  chit-chat  pass’d  away, 

Till  the  chimes  told  the  closing  day : 

“ And  now,”  says  pleasant  Madam  Hearty, 
“ What  think  you,  if  our  little  party 
Should  each  to  sing  a song  agree  ? 

’Twill  give  a sweet  variety. 

Thus  let  the  passmg  moments  roll, 

Till  Thomas  brings  the  ev’ning  bowl ; 

The  Doctor,  sure,  will  do  his  best, 

And  kindly  grant  my  poor  request.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

The  Doctor,  though  by  nature  grave, 

And  rather  form’d  to  tune  a stave, 
Whene’er  he  got  a little  mellow, 

Was  a most  merry,  pleasant  fellow ; 
Would  sing  a song,  or  tell  a riddle, 

Or  play  a hornpipe  on  the  fiddle ; 

And,  being  now  a little  gay, 

Declar’d  his  wishes  to  obey. 

“ Then  I’ll  begin,”  ’Squire  Hearty  said ; 

“ But  though  by  land  my  tours  are  made, 
Whene’er  I tune  a song  or  glee, 

I quit  the  land,  and  go  to  sea.” 


THE  ’SQUIRE’S  SONG. 

The  signal  given,  we  seek  the  main, 
Where  tempests  rage,  and  billows  roar ; 
Nor  know  we  if  we  e’er  again 
Shall  anchor  on  our  native  shore. 

But,  as  through  surging  waves  we  sail, 
And  distant  seas  and  isles  explore, 
Hope  whispers  that  some  future  gale 
Will  waft  us  to  our  native  shore. 


134 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


When  battle  rages  all  amain, 

And  hostile  arms  their  vengeance  pour, 

We  British  sailors  will  maintain 
The  honour  of  our  native  shore. 

But,  should  we  find  a wat’ry  grave, 

A nation  will  our  loss  deplore ; 

And  tears  will  mingle  with  the  wave 
That  breaks  upon  our  native  shore. 

And  after  many  a battle  won, 

When  ev’ry  toil  and  danger’s  o’er, 

How  great  the  joy,  each  duty  done, 

To  anchor  on  our  native  shore  ! 


MRS.  hearty’s  SONG. 

Cupid,  away  ! thy  work  is  o’er, 

Go  seek  Idalia’s  flow’ry  grove  ! 

Your  pointed  darts  will  pain  no  more  ; 
Hymen  has  heal’d  the  wounds  of  Love. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  135 


Hymen  is  here,  and  all  is  rest ; 

To  distant  flight  thy  pinions  move  ; 
No  anxious  doubts,  no  fears  molest ; 
Hymen  has  sooth’d  the  pangs  of  Love. 


136 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Cupid,  away ! the  deed  is  done ! 

Away,  ’mid  other  scenes  to  rove ; 

For  Ralph  and  Isabel  are  one, 

And  Hymen  guards  the  home  of  Love. 


The  Doctor  now  his  rev’rence  made, 

And  Madam’s  smiling  nod  obey’d. 

“ Your  songs,”  said  he,  u have  given  me  pleasure ; 
As  well  in  subject  as  in  measure  ; 

But,  in  some  modern  songs,  the  taste 
Is  far,  I’m  sure,  from  being  chaste  ; 

They  do  not  make  the  least  pretence 
To  poetry  or  common  sense. 

Some  coarse  conceits,  a lively  air, 

With  a da  capo  here  and  there 
Of  uncouth  words,  which  ne’er  were  found 
In  any  language  above  ground  ; 

And  these,  set  off  with  some  strange  phrase, 
Compose  our  sing-song  now-a-days. 

The  dancing-master  of  my  school 
In  this  way  oft  will  play  the  fool, 

And  make  one  laugh — one  knows  not  why — 
But  we  had  better  laugh  than  cry. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  137 

The  song,  which  you’re  about  to  hear, 

Will  of  this  character  appear  ; 

From  London  it  was  sent  him  down 
As  a great  fav’rite  through  the  town. 


DOCTOR  syntax’s  SONG. 
I’ve  got  a scold  of  a wife, 

The  plague  and  storm  of  my  life ; 
0 ! were  she  in  coal-pit  bottom, 
And  all  such  jades,  ’od  rot  ’em  ! 
My  cares  would  then  be  over, 

And  I should  live  in  clover ; 

With  harum  scarum,  horum  scorum, 
Stew’d  prunes  for  ever  ! 

Stew’d  prunes  for  ever ! 

Brother  Tom’s  in  the  codlin-tree, 
As  blithe  as  blithe  can  be  ; 

While  Dorothy  sits  below, 

Where  the  daffodillies  grow  ; 

And  many  a slender  rush, 

And  blackberries  all  on  a bush  : 
With  harum  scarum,  &c.  &c. 


138 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


We’ll  all  to  the  castle  go, 

Like  grenadiers  all  of  a row, 

While  the  horn  and  trump  shall  sound 
As  we  pace  the  ramparts  round, 
Where  many  a lady  fair 
Comes  forth  to  take  the  air, 

With  harum  scarum,  &c.  &c. 

The  vessel  spreads  her  sails 
To  catch  the  rising  gales, 

And  dances  o’er  the  wave  ; 

While  many  a lovelorn  slave, 

To  his  mistress  tells  his  tale, 

Far  off  in  the  distant  vale ; 

With  harum  scarum,  &c.  &c. 


When  the  dew  is  on  the  rose, 
And  the  wanton  zephyr  blows ; 
When  lilies  raise  their  head, 
And  harebells  fragrance  shed, 
Then  I to  the  rocks  will  hie, 
And  sing  a lullaby ; 

With  harum  scarum,  &c.  &c. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  139 


By  fam’d  Ilyssus’  stream 
How  oft  I fondly  dream, 
When  I read  in  classic  pages, 
Of  all  the  ancient  sages ; 

But  they  were  born  to  die, 
And  so  were  you  and  I ; 
With  harum  scarum,  &c.  &c. 


Thus,  with  many  a pleasant  lay, 
The  party  clos’d  th’  exhausted  day 


140 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XII. 

IFE  is  a journey,— on 
we  go, 

Thro’  many  a scene 
of  joy  and  woe : 
Time  flits  along,  and 
will  not  stay, 

Nor  let  us  linger  on 
the  way : 

Like  as  a stream,  whose  varying  course 
Now  rushes  with  impetuous  force, 

Now  in  successive  eddies  plays, 

Or  in  meanders  gently  strays, 

It  still  moves  on,  till  spreading  wide, 

It  mingles  with  the  briny  tide ; 

And,  when  it  meets  the  ocean’s  roar, 

The  limpid  waves  are  seen  no  more 
Such,  such  is  life’s  uncertain  way : — 

Now  the  sun  wakes  th’  enliv’ning  day  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  141 

The  scene  around  enchants  the  sight ; 

To  cool  retreat  the  shades  invite ; 

The  blossoms  balmy  fragrance  shed ; 

The  meads  a verdant  carpet  spread ; 

While  the  clear  rill  reflects  below 
The  flowers  that  on  its  margin  grow, 

And  the  sweet  songsters  of  the  grove 
Attune  to  harmony  and  love. 

But,  lo  ! the  clouds  obscure  the  sky, 

And  tell  the  bursting  tempest  nigh ; 

The  vivid  flash,  the  pelting  storm, 

Fair  Nature’s  ev’ry  grace  deform ; 

While  their  assailing  powers  annoy 
The  pensive  pilgrim’s  tranquil  joy; 

But,  though  no  tempests  should  molest 
The  bower  where  he  stops  to  rest, 

Care  will  not  let  him  long  remain, 

But  sets  him  on  his  way  again. 

Thus  Syntax,  whom  the  ’Squire  had  press’d 
For  three  whole  months  to  take  his  rest, 
Sigh’d  when  he  found  he  could  not  stay 
To  loiter  through  another  day : 

“ No,”  he  exclaim’d,  “ I must  away : — 

I have  a splendid  book  to  maxe 


142 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  form  a Tour — to  paint  a Lake , 

And,  by  that  well  projected  Tome , 

To  carry  fame  and  money  home ; 

And,  should  I fail,  my  loving  wife 
Will  lead  me  such  a precious  life, 

That  I had  better  never  more 
Approach  my  then  forbidden  door.” 
’Twas  thus  he  ponder’d  as  he  lay, 

When  the  sun  told  another  day, 

Nor  long  the  downy  couch  he  press’d, 
Where  busy  thought  disturb’d  his  rest ; 
But  quick  prepar’d,  with  grateful  heart, 
From  this  warm  mansion  to  depart. 

The  ’Squire,  to  his  professions  true, 
Thus  spoke  at  once  his  kind  adieu : — 


’squire. 


“ I ’m  sorry,  Sir,  with  all  my  heart, 
That  you  and  I so  soon  must  part : 
Your  virtues  my  regard  engage  ; 

I venerate  the  rev’rend  sage ; 

And,  though  I’ve  not  the  mind  to  toil 
In  Learning’s  way,  by  midnight  oil, 
Yet  still  I feel  the  rev’rence  due 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

To  all  such  learned  men  as  you ; 

Nor  can  I urge  your  longer  stay, 
When  Science  calls  you  far  away : 

But  still  I hope  you’ll  not  refuse 
My  friendly  tribute  to  the  Muse ; 
And,  when  again  you  this  way  come, 
Again  you’ll  find  this  house  a home. 
Besides,  I mean  to  recommend 
Your  labours  to  a noble  friend, 

Who  well  is  known  to  rank  as  high 
In  learning,  as  in  quality ; 

Who  can  your  merits  well  review ; 

A statesman,  and  a poet  too ; 

He  will  your  genius  truly  scan, 

And  though  a lord,  a learfted  man. 
For  C******  is  an  honour’d  name, 
Whose  virtue  and  unsullied  fame 
Will  decorate  th’  historic  page, 

And  live  through  ev’ry  future  age. 
That  courteous  Lord  doth  condescend 
To  know  me  for  a faithful  friend ; 
And,  when  you  to  his  Lordship  give 
The  letter  which  you  now  receive, 
Expect,  on  his  right  noble  part. 


J44  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

A welcome  that  will  cheer  your  heart. 
To then  repair, 


And  honour  will  attend  you  there. 

Nor  fear,  my  friend,  that  gilded  state 
Will  frown  upon  your  humble  fate : 

My  Lord  is  good  as  he  is  great.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Your  kindness,  surely,  knows  no  end ; 
You  are  in  truth  a real  friend ; 

Nor  can  my  feeble  tongue  express 
This  unexpected  happiness : 

For  if  this  noble  Lord  should  deign 
My  feeble  labours  to  sustain, 

With  the  all-cheering,  splendid  rays 
Of  his  benign,  protecting  praise, 

My  fortune  will  at  once  be  made, 

And  I shall  bless  the  author's  trade  ” 

Thus,  as  he  spoke,  ’Squire  Hearty  gave 
The  letter  Syntax  long’d  to  have ; 

And  with  it  a soft  silky  note, 

On  which  two  coal-black  words  were  wrote 
The  sight  of  which  his  sense  confounds, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  145 

For  these  said  words  were  Ctoentg  ^ounh«. 

“ Check,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “your  wond’ring 
look; 

’Tis  my  subscription  to  your  book ; 

And  when  ’tis  printed,  you  will  send 
A copy  to  your  Yorkshire  friend ; 

Besides,  I’ll  try  to  sell  a score 
Among  my  neighbours  here,  or  more.” 

The  Doctor’s  tongue  made  no  reply, 

But  his  heart  heav’d  a grateful  sigh ; 

Nor,  as  he  sits,  can  we  do  better 
Than  to  repeat  the  promis’d  letter. 


“ Mr  Lord, 

“ This  liberty  I take, 

For  laughter  and  for  merit’s  sake ; 
And  when  the  bearer  shall  appear 
In  your  fine  mansion’s  atmosphere, 
His  figure  will  your  spirits  cheer : 
You  need  no  other  topic  seek ; 
He’ll  furnish  laughter  for  a week  : 
But  still  I say,  and  tell  you  true, 

L 


146 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


You’ll  love  him  for  his  merit  too. 

You’ll  see  at  once,  in  this  divine, 

Quixote  and  Parson  Adams  shine  : 

A hero  well  combin’d  you’ll  view 
For  Fielding  and  Cervantes  too: 
Besides,  my  Lord,  if  I can  judge, 

In  classic  lore  he’s  us’d  to  drudge. 

Oh  ! do  but  hear  his  simple  story ; 

Let  him  but  lay  it  all  before  you ; 

And  you  will  thank  me  for  my  letter, 

And  say  that  you  are  Hearty’s  debtor : 
Nay,  when  your  sides  are  tir’d  with  mirth, 
Your  heart  will  feel  his  real  worth. 

I know  your  kindness  will  receive  him, 
And  to  your  favour  thus  I leave  him. 

So  I remain,  with  zeal  most  fervent, 

Your  Lordship’s  true  and  hearty  servant. 

R.  H .” 

York,  Thursday.  


The  Doctor  now  prepar’d  to  go, 
With  heart  of  joy  and  look  of  woe; 
He  silent  squeez’d  the  ’Squire’s  hands, 
And  ask’d  of  Madam  her  commands. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

The  ’Squire  exclaim’d,  “ Why  so  remiss  ? 
She  bids  you  take  a hearty  kiss ; 

And  if  you  think  that  one  won’t  do, 

I beg,  dear  Sir,  you’ll  give  her  two? 

“ Nay,  then,”  says  Syntax,  “ you  shall  see 
And  straight  he  gave  the  Lady  three  ; 

Nor  did  he  linger  to  exclaim, 

“ He  ne’er  had  kiss’d  a fairer  dame.” 

The  Lady  blushing,  thank’d  him  too, 

And  in  soft  accents,  said — “ Adieu  !” 

Syntax,  since  first  he  left  his  home, 
Had  no  such  view  of  good  to  come, 

As  now  before  his  fancy  rose, 

To  bid  him  laugh  at  future  woes. 

“ Fortune,”  he  cried,  “ is  kind  at  last, 
And  I forgive  her  malice  past ; 

Clad  inC******’s  benignant  form, 
Her  power  no  more  will  wake  the  storm, 
Nor  e’er  again  her  anger  shed 
In  frequent  showers  upon  my  head  ! ” 

Now,  after  a short  morning’s  ride, 

In  eager  hope  and  fancy’s  pride, 


148  TOUR  or  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

The  Doctor  views,  with  conscious  smile, 

Fair ’s  splendid  pile. 

Not  Versailles  makes  a finer  show, 


As  passing  o’er  the  lofty  brow, 

The  stately  scene  is  viewed  below. 

My  Lord  receiv’d  him  with  a grace 
Which  mark’d  the  sov’reign  of  the  place ; 
Nor  was  poor  Syntax  made  to  feel 
The  pride  which  fools  so  oft  reveal, 

Who  think  it  a fine  state  decorum, 

When  humble  Merit  stands  before  ’em  : 
But  here  was  birth  from  folly  free : 

Here  was  the  true  nobility, 

Where  human  kindness  gilds  the  crest, — 
The  first  of  virtues,  and  the  best. 

An  hour  in  pleasant  chit-chat  past, 

The  welcome  dinner  came  at  last ; 

And  now  the  hungry  Syntax  eats 
Of  high  ragouts  and  dainty  meats ; 

Nor  was  the  good  man  found  to  shrink 
Whenever  he  was  ask’d  to  drink. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


MY  LORD. 

“ What  think  you,  Doctor,  of  the  show 
Of  pictures  that  around  you  glow  ?” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I’ll  by-and-by  enjoy  the  treat ; 

But  now,  my  Lord,  I’d  rather  eat.” 

MY  LORD. 

“ What  say  you  to  this  statue  here  ? 

Does  it  not  flesh  and  blood  appear  ?” 

SYNTAX. 

u I’m  sure,  my  Lord,  ’tis  very  fine ; 

But  I,  just  now,  prefer  your  wine.” 

SIR  JOHN. 

“ I wonder  you  can  keep  your  eye 
From  forms  that  do  with  Nature  vie  ! 

Nay,  in  my  mind,  my  rev’rend  friend, 
Nature’s  best  works  they  far  transcend. 
Look  at  that  picture  of  the  Graces, 

What  lovely  forms  ! — what  charming  faces 


150 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“ Their  charms,  Sir  John,  I shall  discover, 

I have  no  doubt,  when  dinner’s  over : 

At  present,  if  to  judge  I ’m  able, 

The  finest  works  are  on  the  table : 

I should  prefer  the  cook  just  now, 

To  Rubens  or  to  Gerard  Dow” 

MY  LORD. 

“ I wish  to  judge  by  certain  rules, 

The  Flemish  and  Italian  schools ; 

And  nicely  to  describe  the  merits 
Or  beauties  which  each  school  inherits.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Tho',  in  their  way,  they’re  both  bewitching 
I now  prefer  your  Lordship’s  kitchen.” 

The  dinner  done,  the  punch  appears, 

And  many  a glass  their  spirits  cheers. 

The  festive  hours  thus  pass’d  away, 

Till  time  brought  on  the  closing  day ; 

The  Doctor  talk’d,  nor  ceas’d  his  quaffing, 
While  all  around  were  sick  with  laughing. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  151 


MY  LORD. 

“ Again  the  subject  I renew, 

And  wish  you  would  the  pictures  view.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ To  view  them  now  would  be  a trouble, 
For  faith,  my  Lord,  my  eyes  see  double.” 

MY  LORD. 

“ To  bed,  then,  we  had  best  repair,— 

I give  you  to  the  Butler’s  care ; 

A sage  grave  man,  who  will  obey 
Whate’er  your  Bev’rence  has  to  say.” 

The  sage  grave  man  appear’d,  and  bow’d  : 
“ I am  of  this  good  office  proud ; 

But  ’tis  the  custom  of  this  place, 

From  country  yeoman  to  his  Grace, 
Whene’er  a stranger  guest  we  see, 

To  make  him  of  the  cellar  free. 

To  you  the  same  respect  we  bear, 

And  therefore  beg  to  lead  you  there ; 

Where  every  noble  butt  doth  claim 
The  honour  of  some  titled  name.” 


152 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  servants  waited  on  the  stairs, 
With  cautious  form  and  humble  airs. 
“Lead  on,”  says  Syntax,  “I’ll  not  stay, 
But  follow  where  you  lead  the  way.” 

The  Butler  cried : “ You’ll  understand, 
It  is  our  noble  Lord’s  command 
To  give  this  rev’rend  Doctor  here 
A sample  of  our  strongest  beer ; 

So  tap  her  grace  of  Devonshire .” 


At  length  the  potent  liquor  flows, 
Which  makes  poor  man  forget  his  woes. 
Syntax  exclaim’d,  “ Here’s  Honour’s  boast 
The  health  of  our  most  noble  Host — 

And  let  fair  Devon  crown  the  toast.” 

The  cups  were  cheer’d  with  loyal  song ; 
But  cups  like  these  ne’er  lasted  long. 

And  Syntax  stammer’d,  “ Do  you  see  ? 
Now  I’m  of  this  fam’d  cellar  free, 

I wish  I might  be  quickly  led 
T’ enjoy  my  freedom  in  a bed.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  153 


He  wish’d  but  once,  and  was  obey’d, 

And  soon  within  a bed  was  laid, 

Where,  all  the  day’s  strange  bus’ness  o’er, 
He  now  was  left  to  sleep  and  snore. 


154 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XIII. 

OW  oft,  as  through  Life’s 
vale  we  stray, 

Doth  F.ancy  light  us  on 
the  way! 

How  oft,  with  many  a 
vision  bright, 

Doth  she  the  wayward 
heart  delight ; 

And,  with  a fond  enliv’ning  smile, 

The  heavy  hour  of  care  beguile  ! 

But  though  so  oft  she  scatters  flowers, 

To  make  more  gay  our  waking  hours, 

Night  is  the  time  when  o’er  the  soul 
She  exercises  full  control, 

While  Life’s  more  active  functions  pause, 

And  sleep  its  sable  curtain  draws  : 

’Tis  then  she  waves  her  fairy  wand, 

And  strange  things  rise  at  her  command ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  155 

She  then  assumes  her  motley  reign, 

And  man  lives  o’er  his  life  again ; 

While  many  an  airy  dream  invites 
Her  wizard  masks,  her  wanton  sprites ; 
Through  the  warm  brain  the  phantoms  play. 
And  form  a visionary  day. 

Thus  Syntax,  while  the  bed  he  prest, 

And  pass’d  the  night  in  balmy  rest, 

Was  led,  in  those  unconscious  hours, 

By  Fancy,  to  her  fairy  bowers, 

Where  the  light  spirits  wander  free 
In  whimsical  variety. 

No  more  an  humble  curate  now, 

He  feels  a mitre  on  his  brow : 

The  mildew’d  surplice,  thus  withdrawn. 

Yields  to  the  fine  transparent  lawn, 

And  peruke,  that  defied  all  weather, 

Is  nicely  dress’d  to  ape  a feather. 

Grizzle  no  more  is  seen  to  wail 
Her  mangled  ears  and  butcher’d  tail : 

Six  Grizzles  now,  with  ev’ry  ear, 

And  all  their  flowing  tails,  appear  : 


156 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


When,  harness’d  to  a light  barouche, 
The  ground  they  do  not  seem  to  touch ; 


While  onward  whirl’d  in  wild  surprise, 
The  air-blown  Prelate  thinks  he  flies. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Now,  through  the  long  cathedral  aisle, 
Where  vergers  bow  and  virgins  smile, 
With  measur’d  step  and  solemn  air, 

He  gains  at  length  the  sacred  chair ; 

And  to  the  crowd,  with  look  profound, 
Bestows  his  holy  blessing  round. 

Above,  the  pealing  organs  blow 
To  the  respondent  choir  below ; 

When,  bending  to  Religion’s  shrine, 

He  feels  an  energy  divine. 

Now,  ’scaped  from  Dolly’s  angry  clutches, 
He  thinks  he’s  married  to  a Duchess  : 

And  that  her  rank  and  glowing  beauty 
Enliven  his  prelatic  duty. 

Thus  Fancy,  with  her  antic  train, 

Pass’d  nimbly  through  the  Doctor’s  brain . 
But,  while  she  told  her  varying  story 
Of  short-liv’d  pomp  and  fading  glory, 

A voice  upon  the  vision  broke, — 

When  Syntax  gave  a grunt — and  ’woke. 

“ An  may  it  please  you,  I’ve  a word 
To  tell  your  Rev’rence,  from  my  Lord.” 


158  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

“ A Lord  ! ” he  cried,  “ why,  to  he  free, 
I’ve  been  as  good  a lord  as  he  : 
Throughout  the  night,  IVe  been  as  great 
As  any  lord,  with  all  his  state ; 

But  now  that  fine-drawn  scene  is  o’er, 
And  I ’m  poor  Syntax  as  before. 

You  spoil’d  my  fortune,  ’tis  most  certain, 
The  moment  you  withdrew  the  curtain  ; 
So,  if  you  please,  my  pretty  maid, 

You’ll  tell  me  what  my  Lord  has  said.” 

“ My  Lord  has  sent  to  let  you  know 
That  breakfast  is  prepared  below.” 

“ Let  my  respects  upon  him  wait, 

And  say  that  I’ll  be  with  him  straight.” 
Out  then  he  bounc’d  upon  the  floor : 

The  maid  ran  shouting  through  the  door, 
So  much  the  figure  of  the  Doctor, 

In  his  unrob’d  condition,  shock’d  her. 

Syntax  now  hasten’d  to  obey 
The  early  summons  of  the  day. 

He  humbly  bow’d,  and  took  his  seat ; 
Nor  did  his  Lordship  fail  to  greet 
With  kindest  words  his  rev’rend  guest — 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  159 

As — How  he  had  enjoy’d  his  rest  ? 

Hop’d  ev’ry  comfort  he  had  found ; 

That  his  night  slumbers  had  been  sound ; 

And  that  he  was  prepar’d  to  share, 

With  keen  regard,  his  morning’s  fare. 

The  Doctor  smil’d  and  soon  made  free 
With  my  Lord’s  hospitality ; 

Then  told  aloud  his  golden  dream, 

Which  prov’d  of  mirth  a fruitful  theme. 

“ ’Tis  true,”  he  said,  “ when  I awoke, 

The  charm  dissolv’d,  the  spell  was  broke ; 

The  mitre  and  its  grand  display, 

With  my  fine  wife,  all  pass’d  away : 

Th’  awak’ning  voice  my  fortune  cross’d ; 

I op’d  my  eyes,  and  all  was  lost ; — 

But  still  I find,  to  my  delight, 

I have  not  lost  my  appetite.” 

SIR  JOHN. 

“ As  for  the  mitre  and  the  gold, 

Which  Fancy  gave  you  to  behold, 

They,  to  a mind  with  learning  fraught, 

Do  not  deserve  a passing  thought; 


160 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  I lament  that  such  a bride 
Should  thus  be  stolen  from  your  side.” 


SYNTAX. 

u For  that  choice  good  I need  not  roam 
I’ve  got,  Sir  John,  a wife  at  home, 

Who  can  from  morn  to  night  contrive 
To  keep  her  family  alive  : 

Such  sprightly  measures  she  can  take, 

That  no  one  sleeps  when  she’s  awake. 

For  me,  if  Fortune  would  but  shower 
Some  portion  of  her  wealth  and  power, 

I would  forgive  her,  on  my  life, 

Though  she  forgot  to  add  a wife. 

Indeed,  Sir  John,  we  don’t  agree, 

Nor  join  in  our  philosophy ; 

For  did  you  know  what  that  man  knows, 

Had  you  e’er  felt  his  cutting  wroes, 

Who  has  of  taunts  a daily  plenty, 

Whose  head  is  comb’d,  whose  pocket’s  empty. 
You  ne’er  would  call  those  shiners  trash, 
■Whose  touch  is  life — whose  name  is  Cash.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  161 


MY  LORD. 

“ A truce,  I pray,  to  your  debate ; 

The  hunters  all  impatient  wait ; 

And  much  I hope  our  learned  Clerk 
Will  take  a gallop  in  the  Park.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Your  sport,  my  Lord,  I cannot  take, 

For  I must  go  and  hunt  a lake ; 

And  while  you  chase  the  flying  deer, 

I must  fly  off  to  Windermere . 

Instead  of  hallooing  to  a fox, 

I must  catch  echoes  from  the  rocks ; 

With  curious  eye  and  active  scent, 

I on  the  Picturesque  am  bent ; 

This  is  my  game  ; I must  pursue  it, 

And  make  it  where  I cannot  view  it : 
Though  in  good  truth,  but  do  not  flout  me, 
I bear  that  self-same  thing  about  me. 

If  in  man’s  form  you  wish  to  see 
The  Picturesque , pray  look  at  me  ; 

I am  myself,  without  a flaw, 

The  very  Picturesque  I draw. 

M 


162 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


A rector,  on  whose  face  so  sleek 
In  vain  you  for  a wrinkle  seek  ; 

In  whose  fair  form,  so  fat  and  round, 

No  obtuse  angle’s  to  be  found, 

On  such  a shape  no  man  of  taste 
Would  his  fine  tints  or  canvass  waste  ; 

But  take  a curate,  who’s  so  thin, 

His  bones  seem  peeping  through  his  skin  ; 
Make  him  to  stand,  or  walk  or  sit, 

In  any  posture  you  think  fit, 

And,  with  all  these  nice  points  about  him, 
No  well-taught  painter  e’er  would  scout  him 
For  with  his  air,  and  look,  and  mien, 

He’d  give  effect  to  any  scene. 

In  my  poor  beast,  as  well  as  me, 

A fine  example  you  may  see  ; 

She’s  so  abrupt  in  all  her  parts — 

Oh,  what  fine  subjects  for  the  arts  ! 

Thus,  thus  we  travel  on  together, 

With  gentle  gale  or  stormy  weather  ; 

And,  though  we  trot  along  the  plains, 
Where  one  dead  level  ever  reigns, 

Or  pace  where  rocks  and  mountains  rise, 
Who  lift  their  heads,  and  brave  the  skies ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  ' 163 

I,  Doctor  Syntax,  and  my  horse, 

Give  to  the  landscape  double  force. 

I have  no  doubt  I shall  produce 
A volume  of  uncommon  use, 

That  will  be  worthy  to  be  plac’d 
Beneath  the  eye  of  men  of  taste  ; 

And  I should  hope,  my  Lord,  that  you 
Will  praise  it  and  protect  it  too  ; 

Will  let  your  all-sufficient  name 
The  two-fold  patronage  proclaim  ; 

That  time  may  know,  till  time  doth  end, 

That  0 * * * * # * was  my  honour’d  friend.” 

SIR  JOHN. 

“ And  can  you,  learned  Doctor,  see 
When  that  important  hour  shall  be  ?” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Sir  Knight,  that  was  not  wisely  spoke ; 

The  point’s  too  serious  for  a joke  ; 

And  you  must  know,  by  Heaven’s  decree, 
That  hour  will  come  to  you  and  me, 

And  then  succeeds — Eternity.” 

M 2 


164 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


MY  LORD. 

“Peace  ! peace  ! Sir  John,  and  let  me  tell 
The  Doctor  that  I wish  him  well : 

I doubt  not  but  his  work  will  prove 
Most  useful  to  the  arts  I love. 

But  pray,  good  Sir,  come  up  to  town, 

That  seat  of  wealth  and  of  renown  : 

Come  up  to  town,  nor  fear  the  cost ; 

Nor  time  nor  labour  shall  be  lost. 

I’ll  ope  my  door  and  take  you  in  ; 

You’ve  made  me  laugh,  and  you  shall  win  ; 
We’ll  then  consult  how  I can  best 
Advance  your  real  interest : 

And  here, — this  piece  of  writing  take  ; — 
You’ll  use  it  for  the  donor’s  sake  ; 

I mean,  you  see,  that  it  shall  crown 
Your  wishes  while  you  stay  in  town  : 

But  you  may,  as  it  suits  you,  use  it, — 

No  one,  I fancy,  will  refuse  it.” 

The  Doctor,  when  he  view’d  the  paper, 
Instead  of  bowing,  cut  a caper. 

My  Lord  now  sought  th’  expected  chase. 
And  Syntax,  in  his  usual  pace, 


I 


I 


i 


Pnoro 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  165 

When  four  long  tedious  days  had  past, 

The  town  of  Keswick  reach’d  at  last, 

Where  he  the  famous  work  prepar’d, 

Of  all  his  toil  the  hop’d  reward. 

Soon  as  the  morn  began  to  break, 

Old  Grizzle  bore  him  to  the  Lake  ; 

Along  the  banks  he  gravely  pac’d, 

And  all  its  various  beauties  trac’d  : 

When,  lo  ! a threat’ning  storm  appear’d  ! 
Phoebus  the  scene  no  longer  cheer’d  ; 

The  dark  clouds  sank  on  ev’ry  hill ; 

The  floating  mists  the  valleys  fill : 

Nature,  transform’d,  began  to  low’r, 

And  threaten’d  a tremendous  show’r. 

“ I love,”  he  cried,  “ to  hear  the  rattle, 

When  elements  contend  in  battle  ; 

For  I insist,  though  some  may  flout  it, 

Who  write  about  it,  and  about  it, 

That  we  the  Picturesque  may  find 
In  thunder  loud,  or  whistling  wind  : 

And  often,  as  I fully  ween, 

It  may  be  heard  as  well  as  seen  ; 

For,  though  a pencil  cannot  trace 


166 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


A sound  as  it  can  paint  a place, 

The  pen,  in  its  poetic  rage, 

Can  make  it  figure  on  the  page.” 

A fisherman,  who  pass’d  that  way, 
Thought  it  civility  to  say  : 

“ An’  please  you,  Sir,  ’tis  all  in  vain 
To  take  your  prospects  in  the  rain  ; 

On  horseback,  too,  you’ll  ne’er  be  able  ; 
’Twere  better  sure  to  get  a table.” 

“ Thanks,”  Syntax  said,  “ for  your  advice, 
And,  faith,  I’ll  take  it  in  a trice  ; 

For,  as  I’m  moisten’d  to  the  skin, 

I’ll  seek  a table  at  the  inn  ; ” — 

But  Grizzle,  in  her  haste  to  pass, 

Lur’d  by  a tempting  tuft  of  grass, 

A luckless  step  now  chanc’d  to  take, 

And  sous’d  the  Doctor  in  the  Lake  ; 

But,  as  it  prov’d,  no  worse  disaster 
Befel  poor  Grizzle  and  her  master, 

Than  both  of  them  could  well  endure, 
And  a warm  inn  would  shortly  cure. 

To  that  warm  inn  they  quickly  hied, 
Where  Syntax,  by  the  fire-side, 


Page  167. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Sat  in  the  landlord’s  garments  clad, 
But  neither  sorrowful  nor  sad  : 

Nor  did  he  waste  his  hours  away, 

But  gave  his  pencil  all  its  play, 

And  trac’d  the  landscapes  of  the  day. 


168 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XIV. 

ATUBE,  dear  Nature,  is 
my  goddess, 

Whether  array’d  in  rustic 
bodice, 

Or  when  the  nicest  touch 
of  Art 

Doth  to  her  charms  new 
charms  impart ; 

But  still  I,  somehow,  love  her  best 
When  she’s  in  ruder  mantle  drest : 

I do  not  mean  in  shape  grotesque, 

But  when  she’s  truly  picturesque . 

Thus  the  next  morning  as  he  stray’d, 

And  the  surrounding  scene  survey’d, 

Syntax  exclaim’d. — A party  stood, 

Just  on  the  margin  of  the  flood, 

Who  were  in  stat'd  quo  to  make 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  169 

A little  voyage  on  the  Lake. 

The  Doctor  forward  stepped  to  show 
The  wealth  of  his  portfolio  : 

The  ladies  were  quite  pleased  to  view 
Such  pretty  pictures  as  he  drew  ; 

While  a young  man,  a neighb’ring  squire, 
Express’d  a very  warm  desire, 

Which  seem’d  to  come  from  honest  heart, 
That  of  their  boat  he’d  take  a part. 

Now  from  the  shore  they  quickly  sail’d, 
And  soon  the  Doctor’s  voice  prevail’d. 

“ This  is  a lovely  scene  of  nature  ; 

But  I’ve  enough  of  land  and  water  : 

I want  some  living  thing  to  show 
How  far  the  Picturesque  will  go.” 

LADY. 

“ See,  Sir,  how  swift  the  swallows  fly  ! 

And  lo  ! the  lark  ascends  on  high ; 

We  scarce  can  view  him  in  the  sky. 

Behold  the  wild-fowl,  how  they  spread 
Upon  the  Lake’s  expansive  bed : 

The  kite  sails  through  the  airy  way, 


170 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Prepar’d  to  pounce  upon  its  prey : 

The  rooks,  too,  from  their  morning  food, 
Pass  cawing  to  the  distant  wood.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ When  with  a philosophic  eye 
The  realms  of  Nature  I descry, 

And  view  the  grace  that  she  can  give 
To  all  the  varying  forms  that  live  ; 

I feel  with  awe  the  plastic  art, 

That  doth  such  wond’rous  pow’rs  impart 
To  all  that  wing  the  air,  or  creep 
Along  the  earth,  or  swim  the  deep. 

I love  the  winged  world  that  flies 
Through  the  thin  azure  of  the  skies  ; 

Or,  not  ordain’d  those  heights  to  scan, 

Live  the  familiar  friends  of  man, 

And,  in  his  yard  or  round  his  cot, 

Enjoy,  poor  things  ! their  destin’d  lot  : 

But  though  their  plumes  are  gay  with  dyes, 
In  endless  bright  diversities, 

What,  though  such  glowing  tints  prevail, 
When  the  proud  peacock  spreads  his  tail ; 
What,  though  the  nightingales  prolong 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  171 

Through  the'  charm’d  night  th’  enchanting 
song : 

What,  though  the  blackbird  and  the  thrush 
Make  vocal  ev’ry  verdant  bush  ; 

Not  one  among  the  winged  kind 
Presents  an  object  to  my  mind  : 

Their  grace  and  beauty’s  nought  to  me  ; 

In  all  their  vast  variety 
The  Picturesque  I cannot  see. 

A carrion  fowl  tied  to  a stake 
Will  a far  better  picture  make, 

When,  as  a scare-crow,  ’tis  display’d 
To  make  all  thievish  birds  afraid, 

Than  the  white  swan,  in  all  its  pride, 

Sailing  upon  the  crystal  tide. 

As  a philosopher,  I scan 

Whate’er  kind  Heaven  has  made  for  man : 

I feel  it  a religious  duty 

To  bless  its  use  and  praise  its  beauty  : 

I care  not  whatsoe’er  the  creature, 

Whate’er  its  name,  its  form  and  feature, 

So  that  fond  nature  will  aver 
The  creature  doth  belong  to  her. 

But  though,  indeed,  I may  admire 


172 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  greyhound’s  form,  and  snake’s  attire, 
They  neither  will  my  object  suit 
Like  a good  shaggy,  ragged  brute. 

I will  acknowledge  that  a goose 
Is  a fine  fowl,  of  sov’reign  use  : 

But  for  a picture  she’s  not  fitted — 

The  bird  was  made  but  to  be  spitted. 

The  pigeon,  I ’ll  be  bound  to  show  it, 

Is  a fine  subject  for  a poet ; 

In  the  soft  verse  his  mate  he  woos, 

Turns  his  gay  neck,  and  bills  and  coos, 
And,  as  in  am’rous  strut  he  moves, 
Soothes  the  fond  heart  of  him  who  loves  : 
But  I’ll  not  paint  him,  no,  not  I — 

I like  him  better  in  a pie, 

Well  rubb’d  with  salt  and  spicy  dust, 
And  thus  embodied  in  a crust. 

How  many  a bird  that  haunts  the  wood, 
How  many  a fowl  that  cleaves  the  flood, 
With  their  sweet  songs  enchant  my  ear, 
Or  please  my  eye  as  they  appear, 

When  in  their  flight,  or  as  they  row 
Delighted  on  the  lake  below  ! 

But  still,  whate’er  their  form  or  feather 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  173 

You  cannot  make  them  group  together  ; 

For  let  them  swim  or  let  them  fly, 

The  Picturesque  they  all  defy. 

The  bird  that’s  sitting  quite  alone 
Is  fit  but  to  be  carv’d  in  stone  ; 

And  any  man  of  taste  ’twould  shock 
To  paint  those  wild  geese  in  a flock  : 

Though  I like  not  a single  figure, 

Whether  ’tis  lesser  or  ’tis  bigger : 

That  fisherman,  so  lean  and  lank, 

Who  sits  alone  upon  the  bank, 

Tempts  not  the  eye  ; but,  doff  his  coat, 

And  quickly  group  him  with  a boat, 

You  then  will  see  the  fellow  make 
A pretty  object  on  the  Lake. 

If  a boy’s  playing  with  a hoop, 

’Tis  something,  for  it  forms  a group. 

In  painters’  eyes — Oh,  what  a joke, 

To  place  a bird  upon  an  oak  ! 

At  the  same  time,  ’twould  help  the  jest, 

Upon  the  branch  to  fix  a nest. 

A trout,  with  all  its  pretty  dyes 
Of  various  hues,  delights  the  eyes  ; 

But  still  it  is  a silly  whim 
To  make  him  on  a canvass  swim  : 


174 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Yet  I must  own,  that  dainty  fish 
Looks  very  handsome  in  a dish  ; 

And  he  must  be  a thankless  sinner, 

Who  thinks  a trout  a paltry  dinner. 

“ The  first,  the  middle,  and  the  last, 

In  Picturesque , is  bold  contrast ; 

And  painting  has  no  nobler  use 
Than  this  grand  object  to  produce. 

Such  is  my  thought,  and  I ’ll  pursue  it ; 
There’s  an  example—  you  shall  view  it. 

Look  at  that  tree  ; then  take  a glance 
At  its  fine,  bold  protuberance  ; 

Behold  those  branches — how  their  shade 
Is  by  the  mass  of  light  display’d  : 

Look  at  that  light,  and  see  how  fine 
The  backward  shadows  make  it  shine  : 

The  sombre  clouds  that  spot  the  sky, 

Make  the  blue  vaulting  twice  as  high  ; 

And  where  the  sun-beams  warmly  glow, 
They  make  the  hollow  twice  as  low. 

The  Flemish  painters  all  surpass 
In  making  pictures  smooth  as  glass  : 

In  Ouyp’s  best  works  there’s  pretty  painting, 
But  the  bold  picturesque  is  wanting. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  175 

“ Thus,  though  I leave  the  birds  to  sing, 

Or  cleave  the  air  with  rapid  wing  ; 

Thus,  though  I leave  the  fish  to  play 
Till  the  net  drags  them  into  day ; 

Kind  Nature,  ever  bounteous  mother  ! 
Contrives  it  in  some  way  or  other, 

Our  proper  wishes  to  supply 
In  infinite  variety. 

The  world  of  quadrupeds  displays 
The  painter’s  art  in  various  ways ; 

But,  ’tis  some  shaggy,  ragged  brute 
That  will  my  busy  purpose  suit ; 

Or  such  as,  from  their  shape  and  make 
No  fine- wrought,  high-bred  semblance  take. 

A well-fed  horse,  with  shining  skin, 

Form’d  for  the  course,  and  plates  to  win, 

May  have  his  beauties,  but  not  those 
That  will  my  graphic  art  disclose  : 

My  raw-bon’d  mare  is  worth  a score 
Of  these  fine  pamper’d  beasts,  and  more, 

To  give  effect  to  bold  design, 

And  decorate  such  views  as  mine. 

To  the  fine  steed  you  sportsmen  bow, 

But  Picturesque  prefers  a cow ; 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


On  lier  high  hips  and  horned  head 
How  true  the  light  and  shade  are  shed  ! 
Indeed,  I should  prefer  by  half, 

To  a fine  colt,  a common  calf  : 

The  unshorn  sheep,  the  shaggy  goat, 

The  ass  with  rugged,  ragged  coat, 

Would,  to  a taste-inspir’d  mind, 

Leave  the  far-fam’d  Eclipse  behind  : 

In  a grand  stable  he  might  please, 

But  ne’er  should  graze  beneath  my  trees.” 

Caught  by  his  words,  the  northern  ’Squire 
Fail’d  not  his  learning  to  admire  : 

But  yet  he  had  a wish  to  quiz 
The  Doctor’s  humour,  and  his  phiz. 

“ I have  a house,”  he  said,  “ at  hand, 

Where  you,  my  service  may  command  ; 

There  I have  cows,  and  asses  too, 

And  pigs,  and  sheep,  Sir,  not  a few  ; 

Where  you,  at  your  untroubled  leisure, 

May  draw  them  as  it  suits  your  pleasure 
You  shall  be  welcome  with  your  mare, 

And  find  a country  ’Squire’s  fare  : 

If  a few  days  with  us  you  pass, — 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  177 

We’ll  give  you  meat — and  give  her  grass.” 
Thus  ’twas  agreed  ; they  came  on  shore, 

The  party  saunter’d  on  before  ; 

But,  ere  they  reach’d  the  mansion  fair, 

Grizzle  had  borne  her  master  there. 

It  was  indeed  a pleasant  spot, 

That  this  same  country  ’Squire  had  got ; 

And  Syntax  now  the  party  join’d 
With  salutation  free  and  kind. 

’squire. 

“ This,  Doctor  Syntax,  is  my  sister  : 

Why,  my  good  Sir,  you  have  not  kiss’d  her.” 


178 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“Do  not  suppose  I’m  such  a brute 
As  to  disdain  the  sweet  salute.” 

’squire. 

“ And  this,  Sir,  is  my  loving  wife, 

The  joy  and  honour  of  my  life.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ A lovely  lady  to  the  view  ! 

And  with  your  leave,  I’ll  kiss  her  too.” 

Thus  pleasant  words  the  converse  cheer’d, 
Till  dinner  on  the  board  appear’d  ; 

Where  the  warm  welcome  gave  a zest 
To  all  the  plenty  of  the  feast. 

The  Doctor  ate,  and  talk’d  and  quaff’d  ; 

The  good  Host  smil’d,  the  Ladies  laugh’d. 

’squire. 

“ As  you  disdain  both  fowl  and  fish, 

Think  you  your  art  could  paint  that  dish  ? ” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  179 


SYNTAX. 

“ Though  ’twill  to  hunger  give  relief— 

There’s  nothing  picturesque  in  beef  ; 

But  there  are  artists — if  you’ll  treat  ’em  ; 

Will  paint  your  dinners ; that  is — eat  ’em.” 

’squire. 

“ But  sure  your  pencil  might  command 
Whate’er  is  noble,  vast  and  grand, — 

The  beasts,  forsooth,  of  Indian  land  ; 

Where  the  fierce,  savage  tyger  scowls, 

And  the  fell,  hungry  lion  growls.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ These  beasts  may  all  be  subjects  fit ; 

But  for  their  likeness  will  they  sit  ? 

I ’d  only  take  a view  askaunt, 

From  the  tall  back  of  elephant ; 

With  half  a hundred  Indians  round  me, 

That  such  sharp  claws  might  not  confound  me  : 
But  now,  as  we  have  ceas’d  to  dine, 

And  I have  had  my  share  of  wine, 

I should  be  glad  to  close  the  feast 
n 2 


I 


180  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

By  drawing  some  more  harmless  beast.” 
The  Doctor  found  a quick  consent, 

And  to  the  farm  their  way  they  bent. 

A tub  inverted,  form’d  his  seat ; 

The  animals  their  painter  meet : 

Cows,  asses,  sheep,  and  ducks  and  geese, 
Present  themselves,  to  grace  the  piece  : 
Poor  Grizzle,  too,  among  the  rest, 

Of  the  true  Picturesque  possest, 

Quitted  the  meadow  to  appear, 

And  took  her  station  in  the  rear : 

The  sheep  all  baa’d,  the  asses  bray’d, 

The  moo-cows  low’d,  and  Grizzle  neigh’d  ! 
“Stop,  brutes,”  he  cried,  “your  noisy  glee  ! 
I do  not  want  to  hear — but  see ; 

Though,  by  the  picturesquish  laws, 

You’re  better,  too,  with  open  jaws.” 

The  Doctor  now,  with  genius  big, 

First  drew  a cow,  and  next  a pig : 

A sheep  now  on  the  paper  passes, 

And  then  he  sketch’d  a group  of  asses  : 
Nor  did  he  fail  to  do  his  duty 
In  giving  Grizzle  all  her  beauty. 


IN  SEARCH  OE  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

“ And  now,”  says  Miss,  (a  laughing  elf) 

44 1 wish,  Sir,  you  would  draw  yourself.” 
“ With  all  my  heart,”  the  Doctor  said, 

“ But  not  with  horns  upon  my  head.” 

“ And  then  I hope  you’ll  draw  my  face.” 
“ In  vain,  fair  maid,  my  art  would  trace 
Those  winning  smiles,  that  native  grace. 
The  beams  of  beauty  I disclaim  ; 

The  Picturesque ’s  my  only  aim  : 

My  pencil’s  skill  is  mostly  shown 
In  drawing  faces  like  my  own, 

Where  time,  alas  ! and  anxious  Care, 
Have  plac’d  so  many  wrinkles  there.” 

Now  all  beneath  a spreading  tree 
They  chat,  and  sip  their  ev’ning  tea, 
Where  Syntax  told  his  various  fate, 

His  studious  life  and  married  state  ; 

And  that  he  hop’d  his  Tour  would  tend 
His  comforts  and  his'  purse  to  mend. 

At  length  they  to  the  house  retreated, 
And  round  the  supper  soon  were  seated  ; 
When  the  time  quickly  passed  away, 
And  gay  good-humour  clos’d  the  day. 


182 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XY. 


IKTUE  embraces  every 
state ; 

And,  while  it  gilds  the 
rich  and  great, 

It  cheers  their  hearts  wTho 
humbly  stray 
Along  Life’s  more  seques- 
tered way : 

While,  from  beneath  the  portals  proud, 
Wealth  oft  relieves  the  suppliant  crowd, 

The  wayworn  pilgrim  smiles  to  share, 

In  lowly  homes,  the  welcome  fare. 

In  splendid  halls  and  painted  bow’rs 
Plenty  may  crown  the  festive  hours ; 

Yet  still  within  the  secret  dell 
The  hospitable  Virtues  dwell ; 

And  in  this  Isle,  so  brave  and  fair, 

Kind  Charity  is  everywhere. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  183 

Within  the  city’s  ample  bound 
Her  stately  piles  are  seen  around ; 

Where  ev’ry  want,  and  ev’ry  pain, 

That  in  man’s  feeble  nature  reign, 

Where  the  sad  heir  of  pining  grief 
May,  bless’d  be  Heaven  ! obtain  relief ; 
While,  on  the  humble  village-green, 

How  oft  the  low-roof’d  pile  is  seen, 

Where  poverty  forgets  its  woes, 

And  wearied  age  may  find  repose. 

“ Thrice  happy  Britons  ! while  the  car 
Of  furious,  unrelenting  War 
Leaves  the  dire  track  of  streaming  gore 
On  many  a hapless  distant  shore, — 

While  a remorseless  tyrant’s  hand 
Deals  mis’ry  through  each  foreign  land, 

And  fell  destruction,  from  the  throne 
To  him  who  doth  the  cottage  own, — 

Peace  beams  upon  your  sea-girt  Isle, 

Where  the  bright  Virtues  ever  smile  ; 

Where  hostile  shoutings  ne’er  molest 
The  happy  inmate’s  genial  rest : 

Where’er  it  is  his  lot  to  go, 


184 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


He  will  not  meet  an  armed  foe  ; 

Nay,  wheresoe’er  his  way  doth  tend, 

He  sure  may  chance  to  find  a friend.” 

Thus,  having  rose  at  early  day, 

As  through  the  fields  he  took  his  way, 

The  Doctor  did  his  thoughts  rehearse, 

And,  as  the  Muse  inspir’d,  in  verse  : 

For,  while  with  skill  each  form  he  drew, 

His  Kev’rence  was  a poet  too. 

But  soon  a bell’s  shrill,  tinkling  sound 
Ke-echo’d  all  the  meads  around, 

And  said,  as  plain  as  bell  could  say — 

“ Breakfast  is  ready — come  away.” 

The  welcome  summons  he  obey’d, 

And  found  an  arbour’s  pleasing  shade 
Where,  while  the  plenteous  meal  was  spread, 
The  woodbine  flaunted  o’er  his  head. 

“ Ah  ! little  do  the  proud  and  great, 

Amid  the  pomp  and  toil  of  state, 

Know  of  those  simple,  real  joys, 

With  which  the  bosom  never  cloys  ! 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  185 

Oh  ! what  a heart-reviving  treat 
I find  within  this  rural  seat ! 

All  that  can  please  the  quicken’d  taste 
Is  offer’d  in  this  fair  repast. 

The  flowers,  on  their  native  bed, 

Around  delicious  odours  shed  ; 

A bloom,  that  with  the  flow’ret  vies, 

On  those  fair  cheeks  attracts  my  eyes  ; 

And  what  sweet  music  greets  my  ear, 

When  that  voice  bids  me  welcome  here  ! 
Indeed,  each  sense  combines  to  bless 
The  present  hour  with  happiness.” 

Thus  Syntax  spoke,  nor  spoke  in  vain  ; 

The  ladies  felt  the  flatt’ring  strain  ; 

Nor  could  they  do  enough  to  please 
The  Doctor  for  his  courtesies. 

“ All  that  you  see, — if  that’s  a charm, — 

Is,  Sir,  the  produce  of  our  farm  : 

The  rolls  are  nice,  our  oven  bakes  ’em  ; 

Those  oat-cakes  too,  my  sister  makes  ’em. 

The  cream  is  rich,  pray  do  not  save  it ; 

The  brindled  cow  you  drew,  Sir,  gave  it : 

And  here  is  some  fresh-gather’d  fruit — 


186 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I hope  it  will  your  palate  suit : 

’Tis  country  fare  which  you  receive, 

But  ’tis  the  best  we  have  to  give,” 

“ Oh ! ” said  the  ’Squire,  “ the  Doctor  jokes 
With  us  poor  harmless  country  folks  : 

I wonder  that,  with  all  his  sense, 

And  such  a tickling  eloquence, 

He  has  not  turn’d  an  humble  priest 
Into  a good  fat  dean,  at  least. 

We  know  how  soon  a lady’s  ear 
Will  list  the  honey’d  sound  to  hear : 

At  the  same  time,  I’m  free  to  say 
I think  the  men  as  vain  as  they. 

How  happens  it,  my  learned  friend, 

That  you  have  not  attain’d  your  end  ? 

That  all  your  figures  and  your  tropes 
Have  not  fulfill’d  your  rightful  hopes  ? 

1 should  suppose  your  shining  parts, 

And,  above  all,  your  flatt’ring  arts, 

Would  soon  have  turn’d  your  grizzly  mare 
Into  a handsome  chaise  and  pair. 

I li?  3 amidst  my  native  groves, 

And  the  calm  scene  my  nature  loves  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  187 

But  still  I know,  and  often  see, 

What  gains  are  made  by  flattery.” 

“ That  may  be  true,”  the  Doctor  said  ; 

“ But  flattery  is  not  my  trade. 

Indeed,  dear  Sir,  you  do  me  wrong  ; 

No  sordid  interest  guides  my  tongue  : 

Honour  and  virtue  I admire, 

Or  in  a bishop  or  a ’squire  ; 

But  falsehood  I most  keenly  hate, 

Tho’  gilt  with  wealth,  or  crown’d  with  state. 
For  truth  I’m  like  a lion  bold  ; 

And  a base  lie  I never  told  : 

Indeed,  I know  too  many  a sinner 
Will  lie  by  dozens  for  a dinner  ; 

But,  from  the  days  of  earliest  youth, 

I’ve  worshipp’d,  as  I’ve  practis’d,  truth  : 

Nay,  many  a stormy,  bitter  strife 
I’ve  had  with  my  dear,  loving  wife, 

Who  often  says  she  might  have  seen 
Her  husband  a fine,  pompous  Dean : 

Indeed,  she  sometimes  thinks  her  spouse 
Might  have  a mitre  on  his  brows, 

If,  putting  scruples  out  of  view, 


188 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


He’d  do  as  other  people  do. 

No — I will  never  lie  nor  fawn, 

Nor  flatter,  to  be  rob’d  in  lawn. 

I too,  can  boast  a certain  rule 
Within  the  precincts  of  my  school : 
Whatever  faults  I may  pass  by, 

I never  can  forgive  a lie. 

I hate  to  use  the  birchen  rod  ; 

But,  when  a boy  forswears  his  God  ; 

When  he  in  purpos’d  falsehood  deals, 

My  heavy  strokes  the  culprit  feels. 

Vice  I detest,  whoever  shows  it, 

And,  when  I see  it,  I’ll  expose  it ; 

But,  to  kind  hearts  my  homage  due 
I sure  will  pay,  and  pay  to  you  ; 

Nor  will  you,  Sir,  deny  the  share 
I owe  to  these  two  ladies  fair.” 

The  ’Squire  replied,  “ I e’en  must  yield, 
And  leave  you  master  of  the  field  : 

These  ladies  will,  I’m  sure,  agree 
That  you  have  fairly  conquer’d  me  ; 

But,  be  assur’d,  all  joke  apart, 

I feel  your  dpctrine  from  my  heart. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  189 

Your  free-born  conduct  I commend, 

And  shall  rejoice  to  call  you  friend  : 

Oh  ! how  it  would  my  spirits  cheer 
If  you  were  but  the  Rector  here  ! 

Our  Parson,  I’m  concern’d  to  say, 

Had  rather  drink  and  game — than  pray: 

He  makes  no  bones  to  curse  and  swear, 

In  any  rout  to  take  a share, 

And  what’s  still  worse,  he’ll  springe  a hare. 

I wish  his  neck  he  would  but  break, 

Or  tumble  drunk  into  the  Lake  ! 

For,  know,  the  living’s  mine  to  give, 

And  you  should  soon  the  cure  receive  : 

The  benefice,  I’m  sure,  is  clear 
At  least  three  hundred  pounds  a year.” 

“ I thank  you,  Sir,  with  all  my  heart,” 

Said  Syntax,  “ but  we  now  must  part.” 

The  fair  ones  cried — “ We  beg  you’ll  stay, 
And  pass  with  us  another  day.” 

“ Ladies,  I would  ’twere  in  my  pow’r, 

But  I can’t  stay  another  hour  : 

I feel  your  kindness  to  my  soul, 

And  wish  I could  my  fate  control : 


190 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Within  ten  days  the  time  will  come 
When  I shall  be  expected  home  ; 

Nor  is  this  all — for  strange  to  say, 

I must  take  London  in  my  way.” 

Thus  converse  kind  the  moments  cheer’d, 

Till  Grizzle  at  the  gate  appear’d. 

“Well,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “since  you  must  go, 
Our  hearty  wishes  we  bestow  : 

And  if  your  genius  bids  you  take 
Another  journey  to  the  Lake, 

Remember  Worthy-Hall , we  pray, 

And  come  and  make  a longer  stay : 

Write  too,  and  tell  your  distant  friends 
With  what  success  your  journey  ends. 

We  do  not  mean  it  as  a bribe, 

But  to  your  work  we  must  subscribe.” 

The  ladies  too  exclaim’d — “ Repeat 
Your  visit  to  our  northern  seat.” 

Poor  Syntax  knew  not  how  to  tell 
The  gratitude  he  felt  so  well ; 

And,  when  at  length  he  said — “ Good  bye ! n 
A tear  was  bright  in  either  eye. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  191 

The  Doctor  pac’d  along  the  way, 

Till  it  grew  nigh  the  close  of  day, 

When  the  fair  town  appear’d  in  sight, 

Where  he  propos’d  to  pass  the  night ; 

But  as  he  reach’d  the  destin’d  inn, 

The  landlord,  with  officious  grin, 

At  once  declar’d  he  had  no  bed 
Where  Syntax  could  repose  his  head  ; 

At  least,  where  a such  rev’rend  guest 
Would  think  it  fit  to  take  his  rest  : 

A main  of  cocks  had  fought  that  day, 

And  all  the  gentry  chose  to  stay. 

“ Observe,  my  friend,  I mind  not  cost,” 

Says  Syntax  to  his  cringing  host ; 

“ But  still,  at  least,  I may  be  able 
To  sleep  with  Grizzle  in  the  stable  ; 

And  many  a Doctor,  after  all, 

Is  proud  to  slumber  in  a stall : 

In  short,  I only  want  to  sleep 

Where  neither  rogue  nor  knave  can  creep. 

I travel  not  with  change  of  ccats, 

But  in  these  bags  are  all  my  notes, 

Which,  should  I lose,  would  prove  my  ruin, 
And  be  for  ever  my  undoing,” 


192 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Thus  as  he  spoke,  a lively  blade, 

With  dangling  queue  and  smart  cockade, 
Replied  at  once,  44  I have  a room ; 

The  friend  I look’d  for  is  not  come  ; 

And  of  two  beds  where  we  may  rest, 
You,  my  good  Sir,  shall  have  the  best ; 
So  you  may  sleep  without  alarm  ; 

No  living  wight  shall  do  you  harm  : 

You  may  depend  upon  my  word  ; — 

I serve  the  King,  and  wear  a sword.” 

44  Your  offer,  Sir,  I kindly  greet,” 

Says  Syntax,  4 4 but  you’ll  let  me  treat 
With  what  is  best  to  drink  and  eat ; 

And  I request  you  will  prepare, 

To  your  own  taste,  the  bill  of  fare.” 

The  Doctor  and  the  Captain  sat, 

Till  tir’d  of  each  other’s  chat, 

They  both  agreed  it  would  be  best 
To  seek  the  balmy  sweets  of  rest. 

Syntax  soon  clos’d  his  weary  eye, 

Nor  thought  of  any  danger  nigh  ; 

While,  like  the  ever- watchful  snake, 

His  sharp  companion  lay  awake 


Page  192. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  193 

Impatient  to  assail  his  prey  ; 

When,  soon  as  it  was  dawn  of  day, 

He  gently  seiz’d  the  fancied  store  ; 

But,  as  he  pass’d  the  creaking  door, 

Syntax  awoke,  and  saw  the  thief ; 

When,  loudly  bawling  for  relief, 

He  forward  rush’d  in  naked  state, 

And  caught  the  culprit  at  the  gate  : 

Against  that  gate  his  head  he  beat, 

Then  kick’d  him  headlong  to  the  street. 

The  ostler  from  his  bed  arose, 

In  time  to  hear  and  see  the  blows. 

Says  Syntax,  “ I ’ll  not  make  a riot ; 

I ye  sav’d  my  notes,  and  I’ll  be  quiet. 

The  rascal,  if  I ’m  not  mistaken, 

Will  ask  his  legs  to  save  his  bacon  : 

But  what  a figure  I appear  ! 

I must  not  stand  and  shiver  here  ; 

So  take  me  back  into  the  room, 

From  whence  in  this  strange  way  I’ve 
come.” 

The  ostler  then  the  Doctor  led 
To  the  warm  comforts  of  his  bed  : 


o 


194 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Into  that  bed  he  quickly  crept, 
Beneath  his  head  his  bags  he  kept, 
And  on  that  pillow  safely  slept. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  195 


CANTO  XYI. 

AIR  Virtue  is  its  own 
reward, 

For  Heaven  remains  its 
constant  guard  ; 

And  it  becomes  us  all  to 
trust 

In  this  grand  truth — that 
Heaven  is  just. 
Whatever  forms  the  human  lot, 

Whether  in  palace  or  in  cot, 

In  the  calm  track  or  frequent  strife, 

Man  leads  his  variegated  life  ; 

Whether  he  feasts  his  smiling  hours 
In  stately  halls  or  painted  bow’rs  ; 

Whether  he  labour  through  the  day 
In  Winter’s  cold,  or  Summer’s  ray  ; 

Or,  in  long  nights  of  tort’ring  pain, 

He  strive  to  close  his  eyes  in  vain, 
o 2 


196 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Comfort  will  on  his  lot  attend, 

If  Virtue  be  his  bosom  friend. 

In  youth,  when  Love’s  creative  pow’r 
Forms  the  young  Passion’s  roseate  bow’r 
When  life  matur’d  the  eager  game 
That  hunts  for  wealth  or  seeks  for  fame, 
Is  subtly  play’d  with  various  art, 

To  seize  the  mind  and  fill  the  heart ; 
When  Pleasure  doth  its  charms  display, 
And  Syrens  sing  but  to  betray  ; 

If  Virtue’s  called,  it  will  defy 
Th’  attack  of  ev’ry  enemy. 

When  age  comes  on  with  stealing  pace, 
And  the  crutch  marks  the  closing  race, 
Virtue  supports  her  champion’s  cause, 
And  cheers  him  with  her  fond  applause  : 
Nay  e’en  at  death’s  resistless  hour, 

She  still  displays  her  conscious  pow’r  ; 
Nor  fails  to  make  the  flow’rets  bloom 
Pound  the  dark  confines  of  the  tomb. 

Thus  Syntax  ponder’d — when  around 
His  head  he  turn’d,  and  grateful  found 
His  bags  and  notes  all  safe  and  sound  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  197 

Pleas’d  with  the  prospect,  he  was  fain 
To  yawn,  and  go  to  sleep  again. 

But,  while  he  still  enjoy’d  his  dream, 

His  story  was  the  gen’ral  theme 
Of  ev’ry  tongue,  and  made  a din 
Through  all  the  purlieus  of  the  inn. 

The  ostler  told  it  to  the  maid, 

And  she  the  whole,  and  more,  betray’d  ; 

Nay,  in  her  idle,  eager  prate, 

Mistook  the  window  for  the  gate  : 

For,  though  she  lay  all  snug  and  quiet, 

And  slept,  unconscious  of  the  riot, 

She  swore  that,  all  within  her  view, 

The  Parson  from  the  window  threw 
A full-grown  man  into  the  street, 

Who  haply  lighted  on  his  feet, 

And  then  ran  off  through  all  the  dirt, 

With  night-cap  on,  and  half  a shirt. 

The  Barber  caught  the  story  next, 

Who  stuck  no  closer  to  the  text ; 

But  left  a face  half-shav’d,  and  ran 
To  tell  it  to  the  Clergyman. 


198 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ Oh  ! bless  me,  Sir  ! ” he  cried,  “ I fear 
To  utter  what  you  now  must  hear : 

At  the  Blue  Bell  there’s  been  such  doing— 
The  house,  I ’m  certain,  it  must  ruin  ; 

Nay,  as  I live,  I’ll  tell  no  further, — 

A bishop  has  committed  murther  ! 

He  seiz’d  a captain  by  the  pate, 

And  dash’d  it  so  against  the  gate, 

That  all  the  planks  are  covered  o’er 
With  scatter’d  brains  and  human  gore  ! 

His  Lordship  gave  him  such  a banging, 
That  he  will  scarce  escape  with  hanging. 
They  quarrell’d,  Sir,  as  it  was  said, 

About  the  colours  black  and  red  : 

The  Captain  manfully  profess’d 
That  the  bright  scarlet  was  the  best ; 

And  they,  who  that  fine  colour  wore, 

The  first  of  all  professions  bore, 

While  black  (it  was  not  very  civil) 

Was  the  known  liv’ry  of  the  devil. 

Thus  soon  a loud  dispute  arose, 

Which  from  hard  words  went  on  to  blows, 
And  ended  in  this  bloody  strife, 

Which  robb’d  the  Captain  of  his  life  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  199 

And  if  fair  J ustice  does  not  falter, 

She’ll  deck  the  Bishop  with  a halter.” 

The  Parson  smil’d,  and  bid  the  calf 
Go  home  and  shave  the  other  half ; 

But,  when  he  came,  the  lather’d  elf 
Had  shav’d  the  other  half  himself. 

The  Tailor  laid  aside  his  needle 
To  hear  the  story  from  the  Beadle, 

Who  swore  he  had  strange  news  to  tell 
Of  what  had  happened  at  the  Bell : — 

“ Would  you  believe  it  ? — that,  last  night, 
A highwayman,  a man  of  might, 

Down  in  his  bed  a lawyer  bound, 

And  robb’d  him  of  a thousand  pound  ; 

Then  gagg’d  him,  that  he  might  not  rouse 
The  people  sleeping  in  the  house.” 

“ No,  no,”  says  Snip  ; “ however  strong, 

No  gag  will  stop  a lawyer’s  tongue  ; 

And  after  all,  the  stolen  pelf, 

Is  what,  I’m  sure,  he  stole  himself  ; 

For,  if  the  real  truth  we  knew, 

He’s  the  worst  villain  of  the  two  ! 


200 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


They’re  thieves  in  grain — they  never  alter— 
Attomies  all  deserve  a halter. 

If  that  is  all,  I’ll  mind  my  stitches, 

Nor  lay  aside  John  Bumkin’s  breeches.” 

The  Blacksmith,  while  a traveler  stayed 
That  a new  horse-shoe  might  be  made, 
Inform’d  him  that  a rev’rend  Clerk 
Last  night  was  strangled  in  the  dark, 

No  one  knew  how — ’twas  at  the  Bell , 

The  murd’rer  not  a soul  could  tell : — 

The  Justice  though  would  make  a rout, 

And  try  to  find  the  fellow  out. — 

Thus  Bumour  spread  the  simple  case, 

In  ev’ry  form  throughout  the  place. 

The  Doctor  now  unclos’d  his  eyes, 

And  thought  that  it  was  time  to  rise  : 

So  up  he  got,  and  down  he  went, 

To  scold  the  Landlord  fully  bent ; 

Who,  pale,  and  trembling  with  affright 
At  what  had  happen’d  in  the  night, 
Approach’d  with  such  an  humble  look, 

The  Doctor’s  rage  at  once  forsook 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


201 


His  Christian  breast ; and,  with  a voice 
That  did  the  poor  man’s  heart  rejoice, 

He  bid  him,  soon  as  he  was  able, 

To  let  the  coffee  grace  the  table. 

“ I do  aver,”  the  Landlord  said, 

“ That  since  I’ve  carried  on  my  trade, 
Since  I’ve  been  master  of  the  Bell , 

As  all  throughout  the  town  can  tell, 

(And  that  is  now  ten  years  or  more) 

I ne’er  knew  such  mishap  before. 

The  fellow,  Sir,  upon  my  word, 

Let  loose  his  money  like  a lord  : 

I receive  all  who  come  this  way, 

And  care  not,  Sir,  how  long  they  stay, 

So  they  but  eat  and  drink — and  pay. 

I ask  not  from  whence  people  come, 

What  is  their  name,  or  where  their  home ; 
That  he’s  a rogue,  I think  is  clear, 

Nor  e’er  again  shall  enter  here. 

He  is  some  sharper,  I suppose, 

Who  round  about  the  country  goes  ; 
While,  to  assist  his  lawless  game, 

He  takes  the  soldier’s  noble  name. 

I understand  the  rogue  you  bang’d, 


202 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  in  good  time,  Sir,  he’ll  be  hang’d  : 

I hope  that  all  your  notes  you’ve  found, — 
I’m  told  they’re  worth  a thousand  pound.” 

“ Prove  that,”  says  Syntax,  “ my  dear  honey, 
And  I will  give  you  half  the  money. 

Think  not,  my  friend,  I’m  such  a fool, 

That  I have  been  so  late  at  school, 

To  put  my  bank-notes  in  a bag 
That  hangs  across  my  Grizzle  nag  ; 

No,  they  were  notes  to  make  a book  ; 

The  thief  my  meaning,  friend,  mistook  : 

For  know,  the  man  would  not  have  found 
Them  worth — to  him — a single  pound : 
Though  much  I hope  that  they  will  be 
The  source  of  many  a pound  to  me.” 

Thus  Syntax  cheer’d  the  Landlord’s  heart, 
Till  the  time  warn’d  him  to  depart  ; 

When  soon  along  the  beaten  road, 

Poor  Grizzle  bore  her  rev’rend  load. 

The  Doctor’s  pleasant  thoughts  beguile 
The  journey  onward  many  a mile  ; 

For  many  a mile  he  had  not  seen 
But  one  unvarying,  level  green  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  203 

Nor  had  the  way  one  object  brought, 

That  wak’d  a picturesquish  thought. 

A spire,  indeed,  across  the  down, 

Seem’d  to  denote  a neighb’ring  town  ; 

And  that  he  view’d  with  some  delight, 

For  there  he  hop’d  to  pass  the  night. 

A farmer  now,  so  blithe  and  gay, 

Come  trotting  briskly  on  his  way. 

“ Will  you,”  says  Syntax,  “ tell  me,  friend, 

If  to  yon  town  this  way  doth  tend  ? ” 

“ This  road,  good  Sir,  will  take  you  there  ; 
You’re  surely  goin^  to  the  fair  ; 

’Tis  the  first  mart,  both  far  and  near, 

For  horses,  cows,  and  such  like  gear  : 

And,  from  the  beast  I’ve  in  my  eye, 

You’re  going,  Sir,  a nag  to  buy  : 

I think,  if  I the  truth  may  tell, 

You  have  not  got  a nag  to  sell : 

For  not  a person  in  the  fair 

Will  give  ten  shillings  for  your  mare.” 

Syntax,  who  dearly  lov’d  a joke, 

And  long  had  liv’d  ’mong  country  folk  ; 
Thought  he  could  work  a little  mirth 


204 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Out  of  this  rustic  son  of  earth  ; 

So  thus  the  conversation  flow’d, 

As  they  jogg’d  on  the  beaten  road  : — 

SYNTAX. 

u Believe  me,  Farmer,  long  together, 

In  sunshine,  and  in  stormy  weather, 

My  mare  and  I have  trotted  on, 

Nor  is  as  yet  our  labour  done  ; 

And  though  her  figure  you  despise, 

Did  you  but  know  her  qualities, 

You  would  not  rate  her  quite  so  low 
As  now  you  seem  dispos’d  to  do.” 

FARMER. 

“ I ’ll  lay  a pound,  if  you  are  willing, 

She  does  not  fetch  you  twenty  shilling.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ First,  my  good  friend,  one  truth  I’ll  tell ; 
I do  not  want  my  mare  to  sell  : 

While  to  lay  wagers  I am  loth  ; 

The  practice  would  disgrace  my  cloth, 

Nor  ever,  while  Life’s  path  I trace, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


Will  I my  sacred  rank  disgrace  ; 

But  yet  I think  you  under-rate 
Poor  Grizzle’s  qualities  and  state. 

’Tis  true,  she’s  past  the  age  of  beauty  ; 

Yet  still  the  old  girl  does  her  duty  ; 

And  some  one  surely  will  be  found 
To  think,  at  least,  she’s  worth  a pound  : 
Nay,  to  amuse  the  country  folk, 

We’ll  put  her  up,  by  way  of  joke, 

But  no  one  must  the  wager  smoke  : 

And  I propose  that,  if  you  lose, 

(No  Christian  will  the  bet  refuse) 

The  money  to  the  poor  you’ll  give, 

’Twill  be  a Christian  donative: 

And  if  my  old  and  faithful  mare 
Should  so  be  treated  in  the  fair, 

That  not  a person  would  be  willing 
To  offer  for  her  twenty  shilling, 

On  honour  I will  do  the  same, 

As  sure  as  Syntax  is  my  name. 

Such  are  the  terms  that  I propose, 

So  let  us  now  the  bargain  close.” 
u Give  me  your  hand,”  the  Farmer  said, 

“ The  terms  I’ll  keep,  the  bargain’s  made. 


206 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Thus  they  rode  on  and  reach’d  the  town 
The  pipe  and  bowl  the  ev’ning  crown. 

The  morrow  came,  and  through  the  fair 
The  Farmer  led  the  grizzle  mare. 

Says  one,  “ I would  not  bid  a pound  : 
She’s  only  fit  to  feed  a hound  ; 

But  would  a hound  the  gift  receive, 

For  she  has  nought  but  bones  to  give  ? 
Where  must  we  look,  her  ears  to  find  ? 
And  faith,  she’s  left  her  tail  behind  ! ” 

“ Why,”  says  another,  “ view  her  scars: 
She  must  have  left  them  in  the  wars.” 

As  a warm  Yeoman  pass’d  along, 

He  heard  the  jeerings  of  the  throng, 

And  felt  a strong  desire  to  know 
What  pleas’d  the  laughing  people  so. 

“ A parson,  Sir,”  says  one,  “ distress’d, 
Would  sell  that  poor,  that  wretched  beast 
And  asks,  I hear,  a pound  or  two  : 

I think  he’ll  ne’er  get  that  from  you.” 

“ If  that’s  the  case,”  the  Yeoman  said, — 

“ I’ll  ease  his  heart,  and  buy  the  jade. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  207 

I’ll  bid  two  pounds,  my  Mend,  that’s  plain, 
And  give  him  back  his  beast  again.” 

The  Farmer  own’d  the  wager  lost, 

And  op’d  his  bag  to  pay  the  cost ; 

“No  Sir,” says  Syntax,  “ ’tis  to  you 
To  pay  where’er  you  think  it  due  ; 

But,  as  we  pass’d  the  Common  o’er, 

I saw,  beside  a cottage  door, 

A woman  with  a spinning-wheel, 

Who  turn’d  her  thread  around  the  reel, 

While  joyful  frolick’d  by  her  side 
Three  children,  all  in  Nature’s  pride  ; 

And  I resign  it  to  your  care 
To  leave  the  welcome  bounty  there.” 

The  Yeoman,  when  he  heard  the  joke, 

In  friendly  words  to  Syntax  spoke, 

“ I,  Sir,  an  humble  mansion  own, 

About  five  furlongs  from  the  town  ; 

And  there  vour  Bev’rence  I invite 
To  go  and  dine,  and  pass  the  night. 

To-day  I give  an  annual  feast, 

Where  you  will  be  a welcome  guest. 


208 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I love  the  cloth, — and  humbly  crave 
That  we  may  there  your  blessing  have. 
Come,  then,  and  bring  your  mare  along  ; 
Come,  share  the  feast,  and  hear  the  song  ; 
And  in  the  ev’ning  will  be  seen 
The  merry  dancers  on  the  green.” 

“ With  joy,”  said  Syntax,  “ I receive 
The  invitation  that  you  give  ; 

In  your  kind  feast  I’ll  bear  a part, 

And  bring  with  me  a grateful  heart.” 

“ I,”  said  the  Yeoman,  “ must  be  gone  : 
But  shall  expect  you,  Sir,  at  one.” 

Nor  did  the  Doctor  long  delay  : 

To  the  farm-house  he  took  his  way  ; 

And  chang’d  the  bustle  of  the  fair, 

For  a kind,  noiseless  welcome  there. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  209 


CANTO  XVII. 

E Courtesies  of  life,  all 
hail ! 

Whether  along  the  peace- 
ful vale, 

Where  the  thatch’d  cot 
alone  is  seen, 

The  humble  mansion  of 
the  green, 

Or  in  the  city’s  crowded  way, 

Man — mortal  man,  is  doom’d  to  stray  ; 

You  give  to  joy  an  added  charm, 

And  woe  of  half  its  pangs  disarm. 

How  much  in  every  state  he  owes 
To  what  kind  Courtesy  bestows  ! 

To  that  benign,  engaging  art, 

Which  decorates  the  human  heart, 

And,  free  from  jealousy  and  strife, 

Gilds  all  the  charities  of  life  ! * 


210 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  ev’ry  act  it  gives  a grace  ; 

It  adds  a smile  to  ev’ry  face  ; 

And  Goodness’  sell*  we  better  see 
When  dress’d  by  gentle  courtesy. 

Thus  Syntax,  as  the  house  he  sought, 
Indulg’d  the  grateful,  pleasing  thought ; 
And  soon  he  stepp’d  the  threshold  o’er, 
Where  the  good  Farmer  went  before  : 
Plenty  appear’d,  and  many  a guest 
Attended  on  the  welcome  feast. 

The  Doctor  then,  with  solemn  face, 
Proceeded  to  the  appointed  place, 

And,  in  due  form,  pronounc’d  the  grace. 
That  thankful  ceremony  done, 

The  fierce  attack  was  soon  begun  ; 

While  meat  and  pudding,  fowl  and  fish, 

All  vanish’d  from  each  ample  dish. 

The  dinner  o’er,  the  bowl  appear’d  ; 

Th’  enliv’ning  draughts  the  spirits  cheer’d  ; 
Nor  did  the  pleasant  Doctor  fail, 

Between  the  cups  of  foaming  ale, 

To  gain  the  laugh  by  many  a tale. 

But  ib.  so  happ’d— among  the  rest — 


IN  SEARCH  OF  T'HE  PICTURESQUE. 

The  Farmer’s  Landlord  was  a guest ; 

A buckish  blade,  who  kept  a horse, 

To  try  his  fortune  on  the  course  ; 

Was  famous  for  his  fighting-cocks, 

And  his  staunch  pack  to  chase  the  fox  . 
Indeed,  could  he  a booby  bite, 

He’d  play  at  cards  throughout  the  night ; 
Nor  was  he  without  hopes  to  get 
Syntax  to  make  some  silly  bet. 

“ I never  bet,”  the  Doctor  said, 

While  a deep  frown  his  thoughts  betray’d 
“ Your  geld  I do  not  wish  to  gain, 

And  mine  shall  in  my  purse  remain  : 

No  tempting  card,  no  gambling  art, 

Shall  make  it  from  my  pocket  start. 
Gaming,  my  worthy  Sir,  I hate ; 

It  neither  suits  my  means  nor  state  : 

’Tis  the  worst  passion,  I protest, 

That’s  known  to  haunt  the  human  breast. 
Of  all  vile  habitudes  the  worst, 

The  most  delusive  and  accurst : 

And,  if  you  please,  I’ll  lay  before  you 
A very  melancholy  story  ; 

Such  as,  I think,  will  wring  your  heart, 

p 2 


212 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  wound  you  in  the  tend’rest  part ; 
That  will  in  striking  colours  show 
The  biting  pangs — the  bitter  woe, 

That  do,  too  oft,  from  gaming  flow.” 

“ Nay,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ I don’t  deny 
I often  like  my  luck  to  try  : 

And  no  one  here,  I’m  sure,  will  say 
That  when  I lose  I do  not  pay  : 

But  as  you  think  it  such  a sin, 

Pray  try  to  cure  me — and  begin.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ How  many  of  the  human  kind, 

Who,  to  their  common  honour  blind, 

Look  not  in  any  path  to  stray 
But  where  fell  passion  leads  the  way  ; 
Who,  bom  with  ev’ry  real  claim 
To  wear  the  fairest  wreath  of  Fame, 
Reject  the  good  by  Nature  given, 

And  scoff  at  ev’ry  boon  of  Heaven  ! 

Yes  ; such  there  are,  and  such  we  find 
At  ev’ry  point  that  gives  the  wind  : 

But  when,  among  the  crowd,  we  see 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  213 

One  whom,  in  prodigality, 

Fortune  and  Nature  had  combin’d 
To  fill  his  purse  and  form  his  mind  ; 

Whose  manly  strength  is  grac’d  with  ease, 
And  has  the  happy  pow’r  to  please  ; 

Whose  cooler  moments  never  heard 
The  frantic  vow  to  Heav’n  preferr’d  ; 

And  near  whose  steps  Eepentance  bears 
The  vase  of  purifying  tears  ; 

When  such  a victim  we  behold, 

Urg’d  by  the  rampant  lust  of  gold, 

Yielding  his  health,  his  life,  his  fame, 

As  off’rings  to  the  god  of  game  ; 

The  tear  grows  big  in  Virtue’s  eye, 

Pale  Keason  heaves  the  poignant  sigh  : 

The  guardian  spirit  turns  away. 

And  hell  enjoys  a holiday. 

“ Is  there  on  earth  a hellish  vice  ? 

There  is  my  friend, — ’tis  avarice  : 

Has  avarice  a more  hellish  name  ? 

It  has,  my  friend — the  lust  of  game. 

All  this,  perhaps,  you’ll  thus  deny  : — 

‘ There’s  no  one  with  more  grace  than  I, 


214 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Lets  shillings  drop  and  guineas  fly  ! 

To  the  dejected  hapless  friend 
My  door  I ope,  my  purse  I lend  ; 

To  purchase  joy  my  wealth  I give, 

And  like  a man  of  fashion  live.’ 

This  may  be  true — but  still  your  breast 
Is  with  the  love  of  gold  possest. 

Why  watch  all  nights  the  fatal  card, 

Or  look  to  dice  for  your  reward  ? 

Why  risk  your  real  wealth  with  those 
Whom  you  know  not,  and  no  one  knows  ; 
With  maggots,  whom  foul  Fortune’s  ray 
Has  rais’d  from  dunghills  into  day  ; 

Who  would  in  your  misfortune  riot, 

And  seek  your  ruin  for  their  diet  ? 
Pleasure  it  cannot  be  ; for  pains 
Will  mingle  with  your  very  gains — 

Will  hover  round  the  golden  store, 

Which,  ere  the  passing  moment’s  o’er, 
May, — horrid  chance  ! — be  yours  no  more. 

“ As  yet,  you  cannot  use  the  plea 
Of  beggar’d  men — necessity  ; 

Plenty  as  yet  adorns  your  board, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  215 

And  num’rous  vassals  own  you  lord. 

Your  woods  look  fair — their  trunks  increase, 
The  Hamadryads  live  in  peace  ; 

But  cards  and  dice,  more  pow’rful  far 
Than  e’en  the  sharpest  axes  are, 

At  one  dire  stroke  have  oft  been  found 
To  level  forests  with  the  ground  ; 

Have  seiz’d  the  mansion’s  lofty  state, 

And  turn’d  its  master  from  the  gate. 

“ A youth,  in  wealth  and  fashion  bred, 

But  by  the  love  of  gaming  led, 

Soon  found  that  ample  wealth  decay ; 

Farm  after  farm  was  play’d  away, 

Till,  the  sad  hist’ry  to  complete, 

His  park,  his  lawns,  his  ancient  seat, 

Were  all  in  haste  and  hurry  sold, 

To  raise  the  heaps  of  ready  gold  ; 

They,  like  the  rest,  soon  pass’d  away, 

The  villain’s  gain,  the  sharper’s  prey  ; 

While  he,  alas  ! resolv’d  to  shun 
The  arts  by  which  he  was  undone, 

Sought,  by  hard  labour,  to  sustain 
His  weary  life  of  woe  and  pain  : 


216 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  Nature  soon  refus’d  to  give 
The  strength  by  which  he  strove  to  live ; 
And  nought  was  left  him  but  to  try 
What  casual  pity  would  supply  ; 

To  stray  where  chance  or  hunger  led. 

And  humbly  ask  for  scanty  bread. 

One  day,  to  his  despairing  eyes, 

He  saw  a stately  mansion  rise  ; 

Nor  look’d  he  long  before  he  knew 
Each  wood  and  copse  that  round  it  grew  ; 
For  all  the  scene  that  seem’d  so  fair, 

Once  knew  in  his  a master’s  care. 

Struck  with  the  sight,  and  sore  oppress’d. 
He  sought  a bank  whereon  to  rest ; 

There  long  he  lay,  and  sigh’d  his  grief ; 
Tears  came — but  did  not  bring  relief : 

At  last,  he  took  his  tott’ring  way 
Where  once  he  lov’d  so  well  to  stray, 

And  press’d  by  hunger,  sought  the  gate 
Where  suppliant  Want  was  used  to  wait — 
Where  suppliant  Want  was  ne’er,  denied 
The  morsel  left  by  glutted  Pride. 

But,  ah  ! those  gen’rous  times  were  o’er, 
And  suppliant  Want  reliev’d  no  more. 


Page  217. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  217 

The  mastiff  growl’d — the  liv’ried  thief 
With  insolence  denied  relief  : — 

The  wretch,  dissolving  in  a groan, 

Turn’d  from  the  portal,  once  his  own ; 

But  ere  he  turn’d,  he  told  his  name, 

And  curs’d  once  more  the  love  of  game  ; 

Then  sought  the  lawn,  for  Nature  fail’d, 

And  sorrow  o’er  his  strength  prevail’d. 
Beneath  an  oak’s  wide  spreading  shade 
His  weary  limbs  he  careless  laid  ; 

Then  call’d  on  Heaven  : — (the  bitter  pray  r 
Of  Mis’ry  finds  admittance  there  !) 

And  ere  the  sun,  with  parting  ray, 

Had  heighten’d  the  last  blush  of  day, 

Sunk  and  worn  out  with  want  and  grief, 

He  found  in  death  a kind  relief. 

" The  oak  records  the  doleful  tale, 

Which  makes  the  conscious  reader  pale  ; 

And  tells — ‘ In  this  man’s  fate  behold 
The  love  of  play — the  lust  of  gold.’ 

No  moral,  Sir,  I shall  impart ; 

I trust  you  feel  it  in  your  heart. 


218 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ ‘ You’re  young,’  you’ll  say,  ‘ and  must 
engage 

In  the  amusements  of  the  age.’ 

Go,  then,  and  let  your  mountain  hare 
The  forest’s  verdant  liv’ry  wear  ; 

Let  Parian  marble  grace  your  hall, 

And  Titian  glow  upon  your  wall ; 

Its  narrow  channels  boldly  break, 

And  swell  your  riv’let  to  a lake  : 

To  richer  harvests  bend  your  soil, 

‘While  labour  fattens  in  the  toil : 

Encourage  Nature,  and  impart 
The  half-transparent  veil  of  Art. 

Let  Music  charm  your  melting  breast, 

And  soothe  each  passion  into  rest ; 

Let  Genius  from  your  hand  receive 
The  bounty  that  can  make  it  live  ; 

And  call  the  Muses  from  on  high, 

To  give  you  immortality. 

To  these  the  hardy  pleasures  join, 

Where  Exercise  and  Health  combine  : 

At  the  first  op’ning  of  the  morn, 

O’er  hill  and  dale,  with  hound  and  horn, 
Boldly  pursue  the  subtle  prey, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  219 

And  share  the  triumphs  of  the  day : 

Nor  let  the  evening  hours  roll 
Unaided  by  the  social  bowl ; 

Nor  should  fair  Friendship  be  away, 

But  crown  with  smiles  the  festive  day. 

Bay,  need  I add  the  joys  they  prove, 

Who  live  in  bounds  of  virtuous  love  ? 

Where  fond  affection  fills  the  heart, 

The  baser  passions  shall  depart. 

While  the  babe  hangs  on  Beauty’s  breast, 
While  in  a parent’s  arms  caress’d, 

Each  low-bred  thought,  all  vicious  aims, 

The  pure,  domestic  mind  disclaims  : 

Virtue  inspires  his  ev’ry  sense, 

Who  looks  on  cherub  innocence  : — 

Then  seek  a shield  ’gainst  passion’s  strife 
In  the  calm  joys  of  wedded  life. 

“ This  is  to  live,  and  to  enjoy 
Those  pleasures  which  our  pains  destroy : 

This  is  to  live,  and  to  receive 

The  praises  which  the  good  will  give  : 

This  is  to  make  that  use  of  wealth, 

Which  heightens  e’en  the  flush  of  health  ; 


220 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Improves  the  heart,  and  gives  a claim 
To  a fair,  fragrant  wreath  of  Fame.” 

“ I thank  you,  Sir,”  the  Farmer  said  : — 
“ ’Tis  a sad  tale  you  have  display’d. 

How  I the  poor  man’s  lot  deplore  ! 

The  more  I think,  I feel  the  more  : 

And  much  I wished  my  Landlord  too 
Would  keep  his  wretched  fate  in  view  ; 
But  while  my  poor  good  woman  weeps, 
Behold  how  very  sound  he  sleeps  ! 

I beg  that  we  may  change  the  scene, 

And  join  the  dancers  on  the  green.” 

Sal  now  exclaim’d,  u The  people  say, 
Ralph  is  so  drunk  he  cannot  play  : ” 

“ Then  I ’ll  be  Fiddler,”  Syntax  cried  ; 

“ By  me  his  place  shall  be  supplied  ! 

Ne’er  fear,  my  lasses,  you  shall  soon 
Be  ambling  to  some  pretty  tune, 

And  in  a measur’d  time  shall  beat 
The  green  sod  with  your  nimble  feet. 
While  virtue  o’er  your  pleasure  reigns, 
You’re  welcome  to  my  merry  strains  : 
While  virtue  smiles  upon  your  joy, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  221 

I’ll  gladly  my  best  skill  employ  ; 

For  sure,  ’twill  give  me  great  delight 
To  be  your  Fiddler  through  the  night. 

I know  full  well  I do  not  err 
From  any  point  of  character  : 

To  Heav’n  I cannot  give  offence 
While  I enliven  innocence  : 

For  thus  to  virtuous  man  ’tis  given 
To  dance,  and  sing,,  and  go  to  Heaven. 

Your  merry  minstrelsy  prolong, 

And  to  your  dances  add  the  song : 

E’en  while  you  caper,  loudly  sing, 

In  honour  of  your  noble  King.” 

CHORUS  OF  PEASANTS. 

“ Strike,  strike  the  lyre  ! awake  the  sounding 
shell ! 

How  happy  we  who  in  these  valleys  dwell ! 

How  blest  we  live  beneath  his  gentle  sway, 
Whom  mighty  realms  and  distant  seas  obey  ! 
Make  him,  propitious  Heaven  ! your  choicest 
care ! 

0 make  him  happy  as  his  people  are  ! ” 


222  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

’Twas  thus  they  fiddled,  danc’d,  and  sung 
With  harmless  glee  the  village  rung  : 

At  length,  dull  midnight  bid  them  close 
A day  of  joy,  with  calm  repose. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


223 


CANTO  XVIII. 

ET  grandeur  blush,  and 
think  how  few 
Of  all  the  many- colour’d 
crew, 

The  motley  group  of 
fools  and  knaves, 
Who  hourly  prove  them- 
selves its  slaves, 
However  fashion  gilds  the  dress, 

Attain  the  expected  happiness  ! 

Let  grandeur  blush,  and  blushing  own 
How  seldom  is  to  greatness  known 
That  pure  and  unembitter’d  lot 
Which  often  cheers  the  peasant’s  cot ; 

The  hallow’d  bliss,  the  nameless  charm, 

That  decorates  the  fertile  farm. 


224 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Thus  Syntax  ponder’d,  as  his  eye 
Survey’d  the  cheerful  family ; 

Who,  round  the  breakfast-table  seated, 
With  one  accord  his  entrance  greeted : 
At  the  same  time,  they  all  express’d 
Much  sorrow  that  their  rev’rend  guest 
Had  order’d  Grizzle  to  the  door, 

In  order  to  pursue  his  tour. 

“ Doctor,  I ’m  griev’d  so  soon  to  part,” 
Burst  from  the  Yeoman’s  friendly  heart ; 
“ Yet  hope,  whene’er  you  this  way  come, 
You’ll  not  forget  this  is  your  home  : — 
You  see  how  we  poor  farmers  live, — 

A welcome’s  all  we  have  to  give  ; 

But  that’s  sincere — so  come  and  try.” 

A few  kind  words  were  the  reply. 

Syntax  once  more  his  beast  bestrode  ; 
He  bade  farewell,  and  off  he  rode. 

Now  Nature’s  beauties  caught  his  eye, 
Array’d  in  gay  simplicity : 

And  as  he  pass’d  the  road  along, 

The  blackbird’s  note,  the  thrush’s  song, 


;r 


Page  225. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  225 

With  musical  and  native  mirth, 

Seem’d  to  do  homage  to  his  worth  : 

The  varied  landscape  here  combined 
To  fascinate  the  eye  and  mind, 

To  charm  the  gazer’s  ev’ry  sense 
From  the  commanding  eminence. 

Th’  expanding  plain,  with  plenty  crown’d. 
Diffuses  health  and  fragrance  round  ; 

While,  on  a lofty,  craggy  height, 

A castle  rises  to  the  sight, 

Which,  in  its  day  of  strength  and  pride, 

The  arms  of  threat’ning  foes  defied. 

Beneath  the  mouldering  abode, 

In  mazy  course  a riv’let  flow’d  ; 

And,  free  from  the  tempestuous  gale, 

Its  silent  stream  refresh’d  the  vale  : 

The  vale  the  scatter’d  hamlet  cheer’d, 

And  many  a straw-roof ’d  cot  appear’d  ; 
While  smiling  groups  at  ev’ry  door 
Spoke  grief  a stranger  to  the  poor. 

With  pious  thought  and  eye  serene, 

Syntax  survey’d  th’  enchanting  scene, 

And  thus  in  grateful  mood  began  : 

“ So  deals  th’  Omnipotent  with  man 
Q 


226 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Such  are  thy  gifts,  all  gracious  Power, 

To  us,  the  creatures  of  an  hour  ! 

And  yet  how  oft  we  barter  these  ; 

How  oft  we  risk  our  health  and  ease, 

Thy  best  bequest,  thy  choicest  treasure, 

For  follies  which  we  misname  pleasure  ! 

And,  slaves  to  vanity  and  art, 

Check  the  best  feelings  of  the  heart. — 

How  the  scene  charms  the  ravish’d  eye  ! 

I cannot,  will  not  pass  it  by.” 

He  said, — and  from  his  pocket  took 
His  pencil  and  his  sketching-book  ; 

While  Grizzle,  in  contented  mood, 

Close  by  her  busy  master  stood  : 

When,  clouds  of  dust,  proclaim’d  th’  approach 
Of  something  Syntax  deem’d  a coach. 

Four  wheels,  in  truth,  it  had  to  boast, 
Although  what  it  resembled  most 
Were  hard  to  say  : — suffice,  this  tub 
Was  built  in  London,  where  a club, 

Yclept  Four-horse , is  now  the  rage, 

And  fam’d  for  whims  in  equipage. 

Dashers  ! who  once  a month  assemble  ; 

Make  creditors  and  coachmen  tremble  ; 


IN  SEARCH  QF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  227 

And,  dress’d  in  colours  vastly  fine, 

Drive  to  some  public-house  to  dine  ; 

There  game,  and  drink,  and  swear,  and  then — 
Drive  in  disorder  back  again. 

Now  Syntax,  with  some  kind  of  fear, 
Beheld  the  vehicle  draw  nChr ; 

And,  like  her  master,  Grizzle  too 
Was  far  from  happy  at  the  view  ; 

For  a long  whip  had  caught  her  eye, 

Moving  about  most  rapidly  ; 

Though  little  thought  the  hapless  nag, 

The  joke  which  the  exalted  wag, 

Who  held  the  reins  with  skilful  hand, 

Against  both  mare  and  master  plann’d. 

But  now  the  curious  Doctor  spied 
The  emblem  of  patrician  pride, 

Which,  on  the  panels  of  the  coach, 

Proclaim’d  a noble  lord’s  approach  : 

Nay,  (as  the  facts  will  plainly  prove  it) 

It  was  a noble  lord  who  drove  it : 

For  ’tis  well  known  to  men  of  rank, 

That  lords  will  sometimes  play  a prank, 

And  thus  indulge  themselves  in  jokes 
Q2 


228 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


As  low  as  those  of  vulgar  folks. 

But  ’tis  not  easy  to  express 
The  wild  surprise,  the  deep  distress, 
Which  Syntax  felt,  when  this  same  Lord 
Aim’d  at  his  back  the  flaunting  cord  ; 
And,  when  the  whip,  with  skilful  turn, 
Was  ill  applied  to  Grizzle’s  stem  ; 

That  stern,  enough  to  make  one  shudder, 
Which  we  all  know  had  lost  its  rudder : 
Her  rage  appear’d  in  either  eye, 

And  then  she  neigh’d  indignantly. 

Such  seem’d  she  as  when  erst  she  bore 
A trumpeter  to  fields  of  gore  ; 

When,  in  the  battle’s  heat  at  large, 

She  led  whole  squadrons  to  the  charge. 
Thus  Syntax,  as  she  scour’d  the  plain, 
Indulg’d  the  moralizing  strain. 

“ Can  I,  in  this  foul  conduct,  scan 
The  peer,  or  well-bred  gentleman  ? 

Or  rather,  must  not  virtue  frown 
On  such  a high-born,  titled  clown  ? 

Thus,  then,  do  nobles  play  the  fool  ! 

A conduct  which,  in  my  poor  school, 

If  ’mong  my  boys  it  dare  appear ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  229 

If  they  should  ape  that  monkey  there  ; 

They  for  their  fun  should  pay  full  dearly : 

I’d  whip  the  blackguards  most  severely. 

But  I’ll  not  waste  another  word 
Upon  this  vulgar,  booby  lord  ; 

For  I have  something  else  to  do, 

And  Grizzle,  what’s  become  of  you  ? ” 

A farmer’s  well-stor’d  barn,  hard  by, 
Attracted  her  observing  eye, 

Where  many  a truss  of  fragrant  hay 
Induc’d  the  prudent  beast  to  stay. 

Meanwhile,  her  discontented  master, 
Reflecting  on  the  late  disaster, 

Pac’d  slowly  on,  brimful  of  care, 

And  wonder’d  who  had  got  his  mare. 

Indeed,  he  fear’d  she  might  be  found 
Within  the  precincts  of  a pound  ; 

But  soon  his  quadruped  he  saw, 

Up  to  her  girths  in  hay  and  straw  : 

While  he,  who  own’d  the  neighb’ring  farm, 
Prepar’d  to  raise  his  weighty  arm, 

And  having  just  observ’d  the  theft, 

Brandish’d  a horsewhip  right  and  left, 

(Alas  ! it  cannot  be  denied,) 


230 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  lay  about  on  Grizzle’s  hide. 

Syntax  beheld  the  harsh  intent : 

“ Forbear,”  he  cried,  “ the  punishment ! 
Why  make  her  feel  the  chast’ning  thong  ? 
She  knows  not  she  is  doing  wrong. 
Forgive  my  warmth,  but  truly,  Sir, 

This  suits  not  with  the  character 
Of  one  who  treads  on  British  ground, 

A land  for  justice  so  renown’d  : 

I’ll  pay  for  all  the  straw  that’s  wasted, 
And  all  the  hay  that  she  has  tasted  : 
Your  courtesy  I now  invoke, 

So  name  the  cost,  and  spare  the  stroke.” 

The  Farmer  paus’d— as  by  a charm — 
And  dropp’d  at  once  th’  uplifted  arm  : 

“ Forgive  me,  Sir,  for  what,”  he  cried, 

“ Cannot  indeed  be  justified  ; 

But  for  my  haste  I’ll  make  amends  ; 

So  let  us  now,  good  Sir,  be  friends  : 

That  is  my  house  : — you’ll  enter  there, 
And,  Thomas,  take  the  Doctor’s  mare. 
Come,  rev’rend  Sir,  I’ll  lead  the  way : ” 
The  Doctor  did  not  disobey, 


Page  231. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


And  soon  was  met  with  welcome  glee 
By  all  the  Farmer’s  family. 

At  length,  some  bus’ness  of  the  day 
Summon’d  the  honest  host  away  ; 

So  Syntax  thought  he’d  look  about, 

To  find  some  curious  object  out : 

When  lo ! a dairy  met  his  view, 

Where,  full  of  cream,  in  order  due, 

The  pans,  the  bowls,  the  jugs  were  plac’d, 
Which  tempted  the  Divine  to  taste  ; 

But  he  found  something  better  there  : 

A village  damsel,  young  and  fair, 
Attracted  his  admiring  eye  : 

Who,  as  he  enter’d,  heaved  a sigh. 

Now  Syntax,  as  we  all  must  know, 

Ne’er  heard  a sigh  or  tale  of  woe, 

But  instant  wish’d  to  bring  relief, 

To  dry  the  tear  and  soothe  the  grief. 

“ Come  here,  sweet  girl,”  he  softly  said  ; 

“ Tell  me  your  cares — nor  be  afraid  : 
Come  here,  and  seat  you  by  my  side  ; 
You’ll  find  in  me  a friendly  guide. 

Relate  your  sorrows, — tell  the  truth  ; 
What  is  it  ? does  some  perjur’d  youth 


232  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Unfaithful  to  his  promise  prove, 
Nor  make  the  fond  return  of  love  ! 


'Tis  so,  I see  ; but  raise  your  eye  ; 
On  me,  my  pretty  girl,  rely  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  233 

You  have  my  tend’rest  sympathy. 

Again,  I say,  your  grief  impart ; 

You’ve  gain’d  an  int’rest  in  my  heart ; 

For  well  I know  the  pangs  they  prove, 

Who  grieve  for  unrequited  love.” 

The  list’ning  mother,  who  had  heard 
Love  talk’d  of,  kindled  at  the  word  ; 

And  rushing  in,  express’d  her  rage  : — 

“ For  shame  ! for  shame  ! while  hoary  age 
Whitens  your  head,  I see  your  eye 
Is  beaming  with  iniquity. 

Begone,  you  old,  you  wanton  goat ! 

Your  heart  is  black  as  is  your  coat ! 

A parson  too  ! may  Heaven  forgive 
The  wicked  age  in  which  we  live  ! 

I’ll  go  and  tell  my  honest  spouse 
The  snake  he  harbours  in  his  house  : 

He’ll  give  such  hypocrites  their  due, 

I’ll  warrant  it ; ” and  off  she  flew. 

The  host  arriv’d,  but  by  that  time 
The  false  alarm,  th’  imputed  crime, 

Nancy  had  ventur’d  to  unfold, 


234  TOUR  OP  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

And  mother  now  had  ceas’d  to  scold  ; 
While,  the  rude  anger  turn’d  to  mirth, 
They  all  confess  the  Doctor’s  worth. 

Dinner  was  soon  upon  the  table. 

And  Grizzle  feeding  in  the  stable  ; 
While  joyful  Syntax  once  again 
Forgot  past  accidents  and  pain  ; 

And,  when  night  came,  repos’d  his  head 
In  peace,  upon  the  welcome  bed : 

But  ne’er  did  he  to  sleep  consign 
His  weary  limbs,  till  to  the  shrine 
Of  Heaven  he  had  address’d  the  prayer 
Which  ever  finds  admittance  there. 


& 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  235 


CANTO  XIX. 


HE  sun  arose  in  all  its 
pride : — 

“ Hail  the  bright  orb, 
the  Doctor  cried, 
u That  makes  the  distant 
mountains  glow, 

And  clears  the  misty 
vales  below  ! 

0 ! let  me  bless  the  Power  divine, 

That  bade  its  splendid  fires  to  shine  ; 
Invigorating  warmth  to  give 
To  all  that  grow,  and  all  that  live  ; 

Which,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth, 

Brings  the  rich  metal  into  birth  : 

Or,  piercing  through  the  secret  mine, 

Makes  rubies  blush,  and  di’monds  shine  : 
While  man,  the  first,  the  head  of  all 
That  breathes  upon  this  earthly  ball, 

As  freely  feels  its  force  as  they 


236 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Of  insect  tribe,  who,  in  its  ray, 

Pass  their  short  hour,  and  pass  away. 

Oh,  what  a picture  greets  my  sight ! 

How  my  heart  revels  in  delight, 

While  I behold  th’  advancing  day 
O’er  the  wide  scene  its  power  display  ; 
While,  as  I gaze,  th’  enchanted  eye 
I)  rinks  in  the  rich  variety  ! 

How  the  gleam  brightens  yonder  tower  ! 
How  deep  the  shade  within  the  bower  ! 

The  spreading  oak  and  elm  between, 

How  fine  those  blushes  intervene  ! 

Those  brilliant  lights  ! — they  would  demand 
Claude’s  pencil,  or  a Titian’s  hand  : 

E’en  while  the  distant  hills  I view, 

Their  orient  colours  change  to  blue. 

The  stream,  within  whose  silver  wave 
Poets  might  see  the  Naiads  lave, 

Now,  lost  in  shade,  no  more  is  seen 
To  flow  among  the  alders  green  ; 

But,  let  the  eye  its  course  pursue, 

Again  it  brightens  in  the  view ; 

Reflecting,  as  its  current  flows, 

Each  flower  that  on  the  margin  blows  ! 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


237 


“ Hail,  favour’d  casement ! where  the  sight 
Is  courted  to  enjoy  delight, 


238 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


T ascend  the  hill,  and  trace  the  plain, 
Where  lavish  Nature’s  proud  to  reign ! 
Unlike  those  pictures  that  impart 
The  windows  of  Palladian  art, 

From  whence  no  other  object’s  seen 
But  gravel- walk,  or  shaven  green  ; 
Plann’d  by  the  artist  on  his  desk  ; 
Pictures  that  are  not  'picturesque. 

But  I should  not  perform  my  duty, 

Did  I relinquish  all  this  beauty  ; 

Nor  snatch,  from  this  expansive  view, 
Some  pretty  little  scene  or  two. 

“ The  cot,  that’s  all  bewhiten’d  o’er, 
With  children  playing  at  the  door  ; 

A peasant  hanging  o’er  the  hatch, 

And  the  vine  mantling  on  the  thatch  ; 
While  the  thick  coppice,  down  the  hill, 
Throws  its  green  umbrage  o’er  the  rill, 
Whose  stream  drives  on  the  busy  mill ; 
In  pleasing  group  their  forms  combine, 
And  suit  a pencil  such  as  mine. 

Nor  shall  I miss  the  branchy  screen 
Of  those  fine  elms  that  hide  the  green, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  239 

O’er  which  the  tap’ring  spire  is  seen. 

I’ll  add  no  more  ; for,  to  my  mind, 

The  scene’s  complete,  and  well  design’d. 

There  are,  indeed,  who  would  insert 
Those  pigs  which  wallow  in  the  dirt ; 

And  though  I hold  a pig  is  good 
Upon  a dish,  prepar’d  for  food, 

I do  not  fear  to  say  the  brute 
Does  not  my  taste  in  painting  suit ; 

For  I most  solemnly  aver, 

That  he  from  genuine  taste  must  err, 

Who  flouts  at  grace  or  character ; 

And  there’s  as  much  in  my  old  wig 
As  can  be  found  about  a pig. 

For,  to  say  truth,  I don’t  inherit 
This  self-same  picturesquish  spirit, 

That  looks  to  nought  but  what  is  rough, 

And  ne’er  thinks  Nature  coarse  enough. 

Their  system  does  my  genius  shock, 

Who  see  such  graces  in  a dock  ; 

Whose  eye  the  picturesque  admires 
In  straggling  brambles,  and  in  briers  ; 

Nay,  can  a real  beauty  see 
In  a decay’d  and  rotten  tree. 


240 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I hate  with  them  the  trim  of  Art  ; 

But  from  this  rule  I’ll  ne’er  depart, — 

In  grandame  Nature’s  vast  collection, 

To  make  a fair  and  fit  selection, 

Which,  when  in  happy  contrast  join’d, 
Delights  th’  inform’d,  well-judging  mind.” 

But  lo  ! the  Farmer,  at  the  gate, 
Proclaim’d  aloud,  the  hour  of  eight ; 

And  Syntax  now  in  haste  descends, 

To  join  his  kind,  expecting  friends. 

“Well,”  said  his  Host,  “another  day 
I trust  your  Reverence  will  stay.” 

“ I thank  you  for  the  offer  made, 

But  that  can’t  be,”  the  Doctor  said  ; 

“ I have  a weary  way  to  go, 

And  much  to  see,  and  more  to  know  ; 
Indeed,  so  far  I’ve  got  to  roam, 

A fortnight  scarce  will  take  me  home  ; 
And  thanking  you  for  all  your  care, 

I must  beg  leave  to  seek  my  mare.” 
Grizzle  was  quickly  to  be  found  ; 

And,  as  the  good  folks  stood  around. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  24] 

Syntax  thought  proper  to  discourse 
Upon  the  virtues  of  his  horse  ; 

Nor  did  he  fail  at  large  to  tell 
That  she  had  serv’d  him  passing  well, 

While  he  forgot  not  to  bewail 
Her  loss  of  ears  and  loss  of  tail ; 

For  though,  among  the  passing  folk, 

His  beast  created  many  a joke, 

And  though  the  foul  and  sad  disaster 
Oft  forc’d  a laugh  against  the  master, 

They  should  not  part  while  he  was  able 
To  keep  himself  and  keep  a stable  ; 

Nay,  to  the  last  he’d  cut  and  carve, 

That  his  poor  Grizzle  might  not  starve. 

Thus,  as  his  hist’ry  he  recounted, 

Into  the  saddle  up  he  mounted, 

And  there  for  some  time  having  s^t, 

He  clos’d  at  length  his  farewell  chat. 

He  thought  it  best  t’  avoid  caressing  ; 

So  gave  no  kiss,  but  gave  his  blessing. 

On  home,  on  book,  on  fame  intent, 

The  Doctor  ponder’d  as  he  went : 

At  night,  he  look’d  his  papers  o’er, 

And  added  to  the  learned  store  : 


R 


242 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  the  next  morn,  another  scene, 

The  vast  expanse  of  liquid  green, 

The  ocean’s  self — broke  on  his  eye, 

In  inexpressive  majesty. 

There,  as  he  look’d,  full  many  a sail 
Gave  its  white  canvass  to  the  gale, 

And  many  a freighted  vessel  bore 
Its  treasure  to  the  British  shore. 

When,  as  he  trac’d  the  winding  coast, 

In  praise  and  admiration  lost, 

Up-rising  in  the  distant  view, 

Half-seen  through  the  ethereal  blue, 

A city’s  stately  form  appear’d  : 

Upon  the  shore  the  mass  was  rear’d, 

With  glistening  spires,  while  below 
Masts  like  a forest  seem’d  to  grow. 

’Twas  Liverpool,  that  splendid  mart, 
Imperial  London’s  counterpart, 

Where  wand’ring  Mersey’s  rapid  streams 
Rival  the  honours  of  the  Thames, 

And  bear,  on  each  returning  tide, 
Whate’er  by  commerce  is  supplied, 
Whate’er  the  winds  can  hurry  o’er 
From  f*v’ry  clime  and  distant  shore. 


Page  242. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  243 

Thus  Syntax  pac’d  along  the  strand, 

Through  this  fine  scene  of  sea  and  land  : 

But  nearer  now  the  town  appears, 

The  hum  of  men  salutes  his  ears  ; 

And  soon,  amid  the  noisy  din, 

He  found  the  comforts  of  an  inn. 

He  ate,  he  drank,  his  pipe  he  smok’d, 

And  with  the  Landlord  quaintly  jok’d  ; 

But,  ere  he  slept,  he  pass’d  an  hour 
In  adding  something  to  his  Tour  ; 

Then  sought  his  couch,  in  hopes  the  morn 
Would  with  new  thoughts  the  page  adorn. 

The  morning  came — he  sallied  out, 

To  breathe  the  air,  and  look  about. 

Where’er  he  turn’d,  his  ev’ry  sense 
Grasp’d  one  vast  scene  of  opulence  ; 

In  all  he  saw  there  was  display’d 
The  proud  magnificence  of  trade. 

Syntax,  an  humble  scholar  bred, 

With  nought  but  learning  in  his  head  : 
Profound,  indeed,  in  classic  art, 

And  goodness  reigning  in  his  heart, 

Yet  forty  pounds  a year  was  all 
r 2 


244  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

I 

He  could  his  fix’d  revenue  call ; 

For  which,  on  eVry  sabbath-day, 

He  went  eight  miles  to  preach  and  pray. 
His  school  too,  brought  but  little  gains, 
And  scarce  repaid  him  for  his  pains  ; 

It  gave,  ’tis  true,  to  drink  and  eat, 

It  furnish’d  him  with  bread  and  meat, 

And  kept  the  wolf  without  the  door, 

But  Syntax  still  was  very  poor.  • 

His  wife,  indeed,  had  got  the  art, 

To  keep  herself  a little  smart, 

Yet  he,  good  man,  was  always  seen 
With  scanty  coat  and  figure  mean  ; 

Though  still  he  never  threw  aside 
The  pedant’s  air — the  pedant’s  pride. 

Thus,  through  the  streets  of  this  rich  place, 
He  strutted  with  his  usual  grace  ; 

And  thus  he  walk’d  about  the  town, 

As  if  its  wealth  had  been  his  own  : 

But  of  his  wealth  he  could  not  vapour — 
Twelve  guineas  and  a piede  of  paper 
(The  present  of  a noble  Lord), 

Was  all  his  pockets  did  afford  : 

Though  still  the  lining  of  his  coat 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  245 

Secreted  ’Squire  Hearty’s  note. 

And  now  he  thought  ’twould  not  be  rash 
To  turn  the  paper  into  cash. 

Thus,  at  breakfast,  while  he  sat, 

And  social  join’d  the  common  chat, 

He  took  occasion  to  inquire 
Who  would  comply  with  his  desire, 

Who  would  his  anxious  wish  fulfil, 

And  give  him  money  for  his  bill. 

An  arch  young  sprig,  a banker’s  clerk, 
Resolv’d  to  hoax  the  rev’rend  spark, 

And  counsell’d  him  to  take  a range 
Among  the  Merchants  on  the  ’Change. 

“ Some  one,  perhaps,  may  want  to  send 
A payment  to  a London  friend  ; 

He’ll  in  your  wishes  gladly  join, 

And  take  the  draft  and  pay  the  coin.” 

The  Barber  now  the  Doctor  shear’d, 

And  soon  whipp’d  off  his  three-days’  beard, 
His  wig,  which  had  not  felt  a comb, — 

Not  once, — since  he  had  quitted  home, 

Was  destin’d  now,  with  friz  and  twirl, 

To  be  tormented  into  curl  : 


246 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


His  coat,  which  long  had  ta’en  the  mst, 

Was  soon  depriv’d  of  all  its  dust ; 

His  gaiters,  too,  were  fresh  japann’d  ; 

Such  was  the  Doctor’s  stern  command 
And  now,  with  spirits  fresh  and  gay, 

To  the  Exchange  he  took  his  way, 

To  try  in  this  commercial  town 
A little-  commerce  of  his  own. 

Th’  Exchange  soon  met  his  wond’ring  sight ; 
The  structure  fill’d  him  with  delight 
“ Such  are  the  fruits  of  trading  knowledge  ; 
Learning,”  he  cried,  “ builds  no  such  college 
Indeed,  I entertain  a notion, 

(I  speak  the  thought  with  true  devotion,) 
Though  we  in  Holy  Scripture  read 
That  Tyre  and  Sidon  did  exceed 
In  wealth  the  cities  of  the  world, 

Where  ships  their  wand’ring  sails  unfurl’d, 
That  e’en  her  merchants  bore  the  bell 
In  eating  and  in  drinking  well ; 

Were  richer  than  the  lordly  great, 

And  vied  with  princes  in  their  state  ; 

Yet,  with  all  their  power  and  rule, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  247 

I think  that  they  ne’er  went  to  school 
In  such  a ’Change  as  Liverpool.” 

He  enter’d  now,  and  heard  within 
The  crowded  mart  a buzzing  din, 

A sound  confus’d,  the  serenade 
Of  ardent  gain,  and  busy  trade  : 

At  length,  his  penetrating  eye 
Was  thrown  about  him,  to  descry 
Some  one,  in  whose  sleek,  smiling  face 
He  could  the  lines  of  kindness  trace  : 

And  soon  a person  he  address’d, 

Whose  paunch  projected  from  his  breast ; 
Who  looking  with  good-humour  fraught, 
Appear’d  the  very  man  he  sought ; 

When,  with  an  unassuming  grace, 

To  him  he  thus  disclos’d  his  case  : — • 

“ You  will  this  paper,  Sir,  peruse  ; 

And  then,  perhaps,  you’ll  not  refuse 
The  favour  which  I ask  to  grant, 

And  give  the  money  that  I want ; 

The  draft  is  good — and,  on  my  word., 

It  was  a present  from  & lord.” 


248 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


MERCHANT. 

“ That  may  be  true  : but  lords,  I fear, 

Will  meet  but  little  credit  here  : 

’Tis  a fair  draft  upon  the  view— 

Yes  ! he’s  a lord — but  who  are  you  ? ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Look,  and  an  honest  man  you’ll  see, 

A Doctor  in  Divinity, 

Whose  word’s  his  bond  ; nor  e’er  was  known 
To  do  a deed  he  would  not  own.” 

MERCHANT. 

“ I’ve  nought  to  say — all  this  may  be — 

But  have  you  no  security  ? 

Pray,  Doctor,  can’t  you  find  a friend 
To  answer  for  what  you  pretend  ? ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ No,  I have  none  ; — I am  not  known 
Within  the  precincts  of  this  town.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  249 


MERCHANT. 

“ And  do  you  come  to  Liverpool 
To  find  a poor  good-natur’d  fool  ? 

With  all  your  learning  and  your  worth, 
Pray  have  you  travell’d  so  far  north, 

To  think  we  have  so  little  wit, 

As  by  such  biters  to  be  bit  ? 

To  learning  we  make  no  pretence  : 

But,  Doctor,  we  have  common-sense. 

For  learned  men  we  do  not  seek, 

And  if  I may  with  freedom  speak, 

I take  you  for  a very  Greek” 

SYNTAX. 

“ To  know  the  Greek  I do  profess — 

’Tis  my  delight  and  happiness  ; 

And  Homer’s  page  I oft  have  read, 
Through  the  long  night,  with  aching  head, 
When  my  wife  wanted  me  in  bed.” 

MERCHANT. 

“ Then  go  to  Homer,  if  you  will, 

And  see  if  he’ll  discount  your  bill. 


250 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  the  clock  strikes — Good  bye,  old  sinner ! 
’Tis  time  for  me  to  go  to  dinner.” 


“ You  want  the  monies  ! ” said  another, 

A bearded,  Israelitish  brother. 

“ ’Tis  a suspected  bill,  I find  ; 

But  you  look  poor,  and  I am  kind. 

Well,  we  must  take  the  chance  of  trade ; 

For  twenty  pounds  the  draft  is  made  ; 

It  is  too  much,  as  I’m  alive, 

But  give  it  me — and,  here,  take  five.” 

“ Patience,  good  Heaven ! ” the  Doctor  said ; 
“ Is  this  the  boast  and  pride  of  trade  ? — 

Each  man,  they  do  not  know,  to  treat 
As  an  incorrigible  cheat ; 

And,  when  he  does  his  want  prefer, 

To  play  the  base  extortioner  ? 

Commerce  ! I envy  not  thy  gains, 

Thy  hard-earn’d  wealth,  thy  golden  pains, 
(For  that’s  hard-earn’d,  though  gain’d  with  ease 
Where  honour’s  sacred  functions  cease,) 

The  dangers  which  thy  vot’ries  run, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  251 


Or  to  undo,  or  be  undone  ; 

Whose  hungry  maws  are  daily  bent 
On  the  fine  feast  of  cent,  per  cent. ; 

Whose  virtue,  talents,  knowledge,  health, 
Are  all  combin’d  in  that  word — wealth. 

’Tis  a proud  scene  of  monied  strife 
Forms  this  magnificence  of  life  ; 

But  poor  and  rich,  with  all  they  have, 

Will  find  at  length  a common  grave. 
Continue,  bounteous  Heav’n  ! to  me, 

A feeling  heart,  and  poverty. 

These  wights  despise  me,  ’cause  I’m  poor  ! 
But  yet  the  wretched  seek  my  door  : 

I fear  no  duns,  I’m  not  in  debt, 

I tremble  not  at  the  Gazette : 

’Twould  to  my  profit  be,  and  fame, 

Did  but  its  page  display  my  name  ; 

Can  these  proud  merchants  say  the  same  ?” 
More  he  had  said — but  now  his  bell 
The  Beadle  rang  aloud,  to  tell 
That  the  good  folks  should  vanish  straight, 
As  he  must  shut  the  pond’rous  gate  ; 

But  Syntax  did  not  seem  to  hear — 

So  the  man  rang  it  in  his  ear. 


252 


\ 

TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 
SYNTAX. 

“ I pray,  my  friend,  what’s  all  this  rout 
With  your  fierce  bell  1 ” 

BEADLE. 

“ To  ring  you  out.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I have  been  used  to  hear  the  din 
Of  bells  that  always  rang  me  in.” 

BEADLE. 

“ All  I’ve  to  say,  for  you  to  know, 

I’ll  shut  the  gate  if  you  don’t  go  : 

I sure  shall  leave  you  in  the  lurch, 

For  now,  good  Sir,  you’re  not  at  church.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Indeed,  my  friend,  you  speak  most  true  : 
I know  all  that  as  well  as  you. 

This  is  no  temple  ; for  ’tis  clear 
I find  no  money-changers  here  ; 

Nor  will  1 say  my  mind  conceives 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


263 


It  may  be  call’d  a den  of  thieves. 
Howe’er,  I’ll  quit  these  sons  of  pelf, 

And  keep  my  paper  to  myself ; 

They  shall  no  more  at  Syntax  scoff ; — 
Grizzle  and  I will  soon  be  off. 

Thanks  to  my  stars  ! I’ve  got  enough 
Of  that  same  yellow,  useful  stuff, 

As  will  my  ev’ry  want  befriend, 

And  bear  me  to  my  journey’s  end. 
Arriv’d  in  town,  my  noble  Lord 
Will  welcome  me  to  bed  and  board ; 
When  it  will  make  his  Lordship  sport, 
As  I these  trading  tricks  report ; 

How  near  I was  to  being  cheated  ; 

And  how  his  ancient  name  was  treated.” 


254 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


TO  XX. 

HUS  as  he  spoke,  there 
pass’d  along, 

Among  the  crowding, 
grinning  throng, 
One  who  was  in  full 
fashion  drest, 

In  coat  of  blue  and 
corded  vest, 

And  seem’d  superior  to  the  rest. 

His  small-clothes  sat  so  close  and  tignt ; 
His  boots,  like  jet,  were  black  and  bright  ; 
While  the  gilt  spur,  well-arm’d  with  steeL 
Was  seen  to  shine  on  either  heel. 

Loaded  with  seals,  and  all  bespangled, 

A watch-chain  from  his  pocket  dangled  ; 
His  hat  a smiling  face  o’erspread, 

And  almost  hid  his  well-cropp’d  head  : 

He  swung  his  whip  about,  to  greet 

His  friends  who  hurried  through  the  street 


CAN 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  255 

When  as  he  pass’d,  all  big  with  rage 
Syntax  appear’d  upon  the  stage, 

And  still  continued  talking  loud 
For  the  amusement  of  the  crowd. 

The  well-dress’d  man  now  stopp  d,  to  know 
What  work’d  the  angry  Doctor  so  ; 

And,  in  a pleasant  friendly  way, 

Demanded  where  his  grievance  lay ; 

When,  Syntax  bowing,  on  they  walk’d, 

And  thus  the  social  strangers  talk’d : — 

SYNTAX. 

“ These  traders,  Sir,  I can’t  admire  : 

You,  I presume,  Sir,  are  a ’squire.” 


“ I have  (and  here  there  pass’d  an  oath), 
To  say  the  truth,  a spice  of  both  : 

For  now  you  have  within  your  view 
A trader  and  a ’squire  too. 

Here  I can  some  importance  claim, 

And  is  my  well  known  name ; 

Nay,  there  are  few  within  this  town 


256 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Of  more  substantial  renown. 

My  house  of  trade  is  in  this  street ; 

A few  miles  off  my  country  seat, 
Where  I most  frequently  reside, 

’Mid  all  the  charms  of  rural  pride  ; 

And  I’ll  be if  e’er  you  see 

A lord  who  better  lives  than  me.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Fie  ! fie  ! good  Sir,  I cannot  bear 
To  hear  a fellow-christian  swear  ; 

You  must  well  know  such  profanation 
Is  a foul  trick  in  ev’ry  station  ; 

And  will  draw  down  celestial  ire, 

Or  on  a trader,  or  a ’squire  : 

Nay,  ’tis  the  duty  of  my  cloth, 
Whene’er  I hear,  to  check  an  oath. 

I’m  a poor  parson — very  poor — 

I keep  a school,  and  hold  a cure  ; 

But  when  I’m  in  the  parish  church, 

Or  when  at  home  I wield  the  birch, 

I know  the  dignities  that  wait 
Upon  the  power  of  either  state  ; 

I keep  them  always  in  my  view — 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  257 

Ay,  Sir,  and  I maintain  them  too  : 

Nay,  in  your  ’Change,  where  riches  reign, 

I did  that  dignity  maintain  ; 

In  that  proud  place,  where,  I am  told, 

There  sometimes  pour  down  showers  of  gold  ; 
But  not  like  that  we  read  of  Jove, 

For  that,  you  know,  was  pour’d  for  love  ; 

And  nothing  like  it  did  I see  ; 

No  love,  nor  e’en  civility: 

I only  ask’d  a common  grace, 

When  the  man  mock’d  me  to  my  face  : 

Had  I an  arrant  swindler  been, 

He  could  not  with  more  scornful  mien 
Have  my  polite  proposal  greeted  : 

Indeed,  I was  most  foully  treated  ; 

And  by  a dolt  was  made  a joke 
Among  the  rude,  surrounding  folk. 

Thus  was  I work’d  into  a stew, 

By  Turk,  by  Gentile,  and  by  Jew  : 

How  bless’d  am  I to  meet  with  you  ! 

For  know,  Sir,  I’ve  the  art  to  scan 
The  well-bred  finish’d  gentleman  ; 

And,  therefore,  I shall  lay  before  you 
Some  items  of  my  honest  story. 


258 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  object  of  the  Tour  I make 
Is  chiefly  for  the  profit  sake  ; 

At  the  same  time,  I trust,  my  name 
May  find  some  literary  fame  : 

You,  if  you  please,  may  take  a look 
At  what  I’ve  finish’d  of  my  Book  : 

A noble  peer  doth  condescend 
To  be  my  patron,  and  my  friend  ; 

I saw  him  late  in  York’s  fair  county, 

And  was  the  object  of  his  bounty. 

This  draft,  with  most  becoming  grace, 

The  smile  of  goodness  in  his  face, 

He  soft  convey’d  unto  my  touch, — 

He  said,  indeed,  it  was  not  much ; 

But,  could  I visit  him  in  town, 

He’d  make  his  further  friendship  known  : 

And  here,  alas  ! I was  so  rash, 

To  try  to  get  it  chang’d  for  cash  ; 

For  which,  myself  and  this  great  peer, 

Of  these  rude  raff,  became  the  jeer. 

Permit  me,  Sir,  to  show  the  paper 

That  made  these  purse-proud  tradesmen  vapour, 

To  its  full  value  you’ll  accord  ; — 

Perhaps,  Sir,  you  may  know  my  Lord.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  259 


MR.  

“ I know  him  well, — ’tis  his  hand- writing — 
It  is  his  Lordship’s  own  inditing : 

I’ll  give  the  coin  ; — Why,  blood  and  ’ounds  ! 
I wish  ’twere  for  five  hundred  pounds  ! 

He  is  a lord  of  great  discerning  ; 

His  friendship  proves  your  store  of  learning  ; 
He’s  not  more  known  for  ancient  birth, 

Than  for  the  charm  of  private  worth  ; 

For  all  that  elegance  and  grace 
Which  decorate  a noble  race  : 

Come  here  with  me,  and  you  shall  find 
At  least  one  trader  to  your  mind.” 

Syntax  now  smooth’d  his  angry  look, 

And  straight  prepar’d  to  shew  his  Book. 

In  a fine  room  he  soon  was  seated  ; 

With  all  attention  he  was  treated  : 

And  while  they  at  their  luncheon  sat, 

Ten  minutes  pass’d  in  friendly  chat. 

At  length  the  bus’ness  was  arrang’d  ; 

The  deed  was  done, — the  draft  was  chang’d  ; 
And,  as  the  Doctor  plac’d  his  note 
s 2 


260 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


In  a small  pouch  within  his  coat, 

“ There,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ there’s  another  ; 
I’ve  matched  it  with  its  very  brother, 

The  Bank  of  England  is  their  mother  ; 

And  when  they’re  offer’d  to  her  eye, 

She’ll  own  them  as  her  progeny. 

So  tell  my  Lord,  that  I,  for  one, 

Am  proud  to  do  as  he  has  done  : 

Nor  is  this  all,  my  learned  friend  ; 

Here  our  acquaintance  must  not  end  : 

My  phaeton  and  servants  wait, 

All  in  due  order  at  the  gate  : 

So  you  shall  go  along  and  see 
My  rural  hospitality. 

For  a few  days  we  will  contrive 
To  keep  our  spirits  all  alive  : 

I’ll  send  a groom  to  fetch  your  mare, 

So  laugh  at  thought  and  banish  care.” 

Thus  off  they  went — and  four-in-hand, 
Dash’d  briskly  towards  the  promis’d  land  : 
Syntax  first  told  his  simple  story, 

And  then  the  ’Squire  detail’d  his  glory. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  261 


MR. 

“ Now  we’re  away  in  chaise-and-four, 
I am  a merchant,  Sir,  no  more, 

At  least,  whene’er  I thus  retire, 

To  flourish  as  a country  ’squire  ; 

And  you  will  see  how  I prepare 
An  opiate  for  mercantile  care. 

In  learned  labours  some  proceed, 

But  I prefer  the  racing  steed  : 

Some  to  Ambition’s  heights  ascend  ; 

I to  the  Racing-course  attend  : 

In  study,  I ne’er  wander  far  ; 

Mine  is  the  Racing-Calendar  : 

While  with  keen  eye  the  heralds  see 
The  long-trac’d  line  of  ancestry, 

Give  me  a horse’s  pedigree. 

Others  some  pow’rful  station  boast ; 
But  let  me  gain  the  winning-post. 

It  may  be  sweet  with  babes  to  play, 
But  I prefer  the  Filly’s  neigh. 

You  talk  of  men  of  wit  and  parts, 

Of  the  deep  sciences  and  arts  ; 

Give  me  the  science  that  will  teach 


262 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  knowing  one  to  over-reach  : 

And,  as  for  pictures  and  such  things, 
Which  taste  from  foreign  countries  brings 
A brood-mare  in  maternal  pride, 

With  a colt  trotting  by  her  side, 

Is  to  my  eye  more  pleasing  far 
Than  hero  in  triumphal  car, 

Or  sea-born  Venus  weeping  o’er 
Adonis  wounded  by  a boar.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ These  points,  good  Sir,  I can’t  discuss  : 
I know  no  steed  but  Pegasus.” 

MR. 

“ Cut  off  his  wings, — I’ve  got  a horse 
Shall  run  him  o’er  the  Beacon  Course  ; 
And,  though  Apollo  should  bestride  him, 
I’ll  back  my  horse — for  I will  ride  him.” 

Thus  as  he  spoke,  a row  of  trees, 
Which  a full  age  had  felt  the  breeze, 

And  half  that  time,  at  least,  had  made 
A long  cathedral  aisle  of  shade, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  263 

Appear’d  in  view,  and  mark’d  the  road 
Which  led  to  this  brave  ’Squire’s  abode, 
Whose  stately  chambers  soon  possest 
The  Doctor  as  a welcome  guest. 

The  dinner  came—  a sumptuous  treat ; 

Nor  did  the  Parson  fail  to  eat 
In  the  same  way  he  us’d  to  do — 

As  much  as  any  other  two. 

The  cakes  he  munch’d — the  wine  he  quaff’d, 
His  tale  he  told — the  Ladies  laugh’d  ; 

And  thus  the  merry  moments  pass’d, 

Till  cap  and  slippers  came  at  last. 

At  length  his  balmy  slumbers  o’er, 

Morn  smil’d,  as  it  had  smil’d  before, 

And  as,  without  our  care  or  pain, 

It  will  not  fail  to  smile  again  ; 

When  Syntax,  having  proved  as  able 
At  breakfast,  as  at  dinner  table, 

Begg’d  leave,  with  due  respect,  to  say 
He  must  pursue  his  anxious  way. 

“ Well,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ before  you  go, 

I shall  my  stud  of  racers  show.” 

So  off  they  went ; — from  stall  to  stall 
He  shew’d  the  steeds,  and  nam’d  them  all ; 


264 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Describ’d  their  beauty  and  tlieir  birth ; 
Their  well-earn’d  fame  and  golden  worth  ; 
The  various  feats  they  all  had  done, 

With  plates  which  they  had  lost  and  won. 
At  length,  the  astonish’d  ’Squire  saw 
Poor  Grizzle  to  her  girths  in  straw. 

“ That,  Sir,”  said  Syntax,  “ is  my  steed  ; 
But  though  I can’t  detail  her  breed, 

I sure  can  tell  what  she  has  won — 

Those  scars  by  Frenchman’s  sabre  done. 

I cannot  brag  what  she  has  cost ; 

But  you  may  see  what  she  has  lost.” 

“ Where,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ are  her  ears  ? ” 
Quoth  Syntax,  “ you  must  ask  the  shears  ; 
And  now,  perhaps,  her  switchy  tail 
Hangs  on  a barn-door,  from  a nail ! ” 

The  Doctor  then  began  to  state 
Poor  Grizzle’s  character  and  fate. 

“ Who  was  her  dam,  or  who  her  sire, 

I care  not,”  says  the  merry  ’Squire  : 

“ But  well  I know,  and  you  shall  see, 

Who  will  her  noble  husband  be ; 

Yon  fam’d  grey  horse,  of  Arab  birth, 

A princely  steed,  of  nameless  worth.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  265 

“ The  match  is  very  grand  indeed,” 

Says  Syntax,  “ but  it  won’t  succeed  ; 

Our  household  is  not  form’d  to  breed. 

My  dearest  Dorothy  and  I 
Have  never  had  a progeny  : 

Our  fortune  has  more  wisely  carv’d  : 

Had  she  borne  babes  they  must  have  starv’d : 
"What  should  we  do  with  such  dear  elves, 

Who  scarce  know  how  to  keep  ourselves  ! ” 

“ I’ll  hear  no  more,”  the  ’Squire  replied ; 

“ The  scheme  shall  be  this  moment  tried, 
Grizzle  shall  be  young  MatcKem’s  bride. 

You  are  a very  worthy  man, 

And  may  the  depths  of  learning  scan  ; 

But  in  these  things  you’re  quite  a dolt : 

You’ll  get  a hundred  for  the  colt. 

I’ll  have  my  whim — it  shall  be  carried  — 

So  Grizzle  was  that  morning  married. 


And  now  the  ’Squire  invites  the  stay 
Of  Syntax  for  another  day. 

“ Your  mare,”  he  said,  “ we’ll  onward  send, 
Tied  to  the  London  wagon’s  end  ; 

When  she’s  got  forty  miles,  or  more 


266 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


We’ll  follow  in  a chaise-and-four  : 

At  the  Dun  Cow , upon  the  road, 

Grizzle  shall  safely  be  bestow’d  ; 

And  there,  my  friend,  or  sood  or  late, 

Her  master’s  coming  may  await : 

You’ll  neither  lose  nor  time  nor  space ; 
Your  way  I’m  going  to  a race, 

Where  I’ve  a famous  horse  to  run : 

And  if  you  do  not  like  the  fun, 

Why  you  may  theii  proceed  to  town, 

With  my  best  wishes  that  renown 
And  profit  may  your  labours  crown. 
To-morrow,  by  the  close  of  day, 

We  shall  find  Grizzle  on  the  way.” 

“ Just  as  you  please,”  the  Doctor  said  ; 

“ Your  kind  commands  shall  be  obey’d  : 

I think  myself  supremely  bless’d, 

By  noble  minds  to  be  caress’d  : 

The  kind  protection  you  impart 
Pours  oil  of  gladness  on  my  heart.” 

The  Ladies  now  desir’d  to  see 
His  journey’s  pictur’d  history  : 

The  book  he  shew’d,  which  prov’d  a bribe 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

For  those  kind  fair  ones  to  subscribe  ; 
And,  while  they  felt  the  gen’rous  pleasure 
Of  adding  to  his  growing  treasure, 

The  ’Squire,  to  keep  the  joke  alive, 

Had  bade  his  stable  folk  contrive, 

Ere  the  good  Doctor’s  grizzle  mare 
Was  yielded  to  the  carrier’s  care  ; 

Ere  on  her  voyage  she  set  sail, 

To  furnish  her  with  ears  and  tail. 

Grizzle  was  soon  a crop  no  more, 

As  she  had  been  some  weeks  before  ; 

Nor  was  it  long  before  her  stump 
Felt  all  the  honours  of  the  rump  : 

And  thus  equipp’d  with  specious  art, 

She  pac’d  behind  the  carrier’s  cart. 

Their  breakfast  done,  the  following  day, 
The  ’Squire  and  Syntax  bounc’d  away ; 
And,  ere  the  sun  had  set  at  eve, 

The  Dun  Cow  did  the  sage  receive  ; 
Where  Grizzle, — her  day’s  journey  o’er, 
Had  a short  time  arriv’d  before. 

Syntax  now  felt  a strong  desire, 

To  smoke  his  pipe  by  kitchen  fire, 


268 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Where  many  a country  neighbour  sat, 
Nor  did  he  fail  to  join  the  chat ; 

When,  having  supp’d,  and  drunk  his  ale, 
And  silence  seeming  to  prevail, 

He  slowly  from  his  pocket  took 
His  traveling  memorandum  book  ; 

And,  as  he  turn’d  the  pages  o’er, 
Revolving  on  their  curious  lore, 

Th’  exciseman,  a right  village  sage, 

(For  he  could  cast  accounts  and  gauge,) 
Spoke  for  the  rest — who  would  be  proud 
To  hear  his  Rev’rence  read  aloud. 

He  bow’d  assent,  and  straight  began 
To  state  what  beauty  is  in  man  ; 

Or  on  the  surface  of  the  earth, 

Or  what  finds,  in  its  entrails,  birth ; 
With  all  things  in  their  due  degrees, 
That  live  in  air,  or  love  the  seas  ; 

In  all  the  trees  and  plants  that  grow, 

In  all  the  various  flowers  that  blow ; 

Of  all  things  in  the  realms  of  nature, 

Or  senseless  forms,  or  living  creature  : 

In  short,  he  thus  profess’d  to  show-, 
Through  all  the  vast  expanse  below, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  269 

From  what  concenter’d  state  of  things 
The  varying  form  of  beauty  springs ; 

But,  as  he  read,  though  full  of  grace, 

Though  strong  expression  mark’d  his  face, 
Though  his  feet  struck  the  sounding  floor, 
And  his  voice  thunder’d  through  the  door, 
Each  hearer,  as  th’  infection  crept 
O’er  the  numb’d  sense,  unconscious  slept ! 
One  dropp’d  his  pipe — another  snor’d, 

His  bed  of  down  an  oaken  board  ; 

The  cobbler  yawn’d,  then  sank  to  rest, 

His  chin  reclining  on  his  breast  : 

All  slept  at  length  but  Tom  and  Sue, 

For  they  had  something  else  to  do. 

Syntax  heard  nought ; the  enraptur’d  elf 
Saw  and  heard  nothing  but  himself : 

But,  when  a swineherd’s  bugle  sounded, 

The  Doctor  then,  amaz’d — confounded, 

Beheld  the  death-like  scene  about  him ; 

And,  thinking  it  was  form’d  to  flout  him, 

He  frown’d  disdain — then  struck  his  head, 
Caught  up  a light,  and  rush’d  to  bed. 


270 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XXL 

LEEP,  to  the  virtuous 
ever  kind, 

Soon  hush’d  the  Doctor’s 
turbid  mind, 

And,  when  the  morning 
shed  its  dew, 

He  ’rose  his  journey  to 
pursue, 
took  his  fill, 
to  bring  the  bill ; 

But  when  it  came,  it  made  him  stare 
To  see  some  curious  items  there  ! 

“ Go,  tell  your  Ostler  to  appear  ; 

I wish  to  see  the  fellow  here.” 

The  Ostler  now  before  him  stands, 

Then  bows  his  head,  and  rubs  his  hands. — 

“ In  this  same  bill,  my  friend,  I see 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


271 


You’re  witty  on  my  mare  and  me : 

For  all  your  corn,  and  beans,  and  bay, 
’Tis  a fair  charge,  which  I shall  pay  ; 
But  here  a strange  demand  appears — 

‘ For  cleaning  of  her  tail  and  ears  !’ 
Now,  know  my  lad,  if  this  is  done 
On  me  to  play  your  vulgar  fun, 

(For  ears  and  tail  my  mare  has  none,) 

I’ll  make  this  angry  horse-whip  crack 
In  all  directions  on  your  back.” 

The  man  denied  an  ill  intent ; 

He  knew  not  what  his  Rev’rence  meant  ; 
So  thought  it  best  to  say  no  more, 

But  bring  up  Grizzle  to  the  door. 

Of  painted  canvass  were  her  ears  ; 

Upon  her  stump  a tail  appears  ; 

So  chang’d  she  was,  so  gay,  so  smart, 
Deck’d  out  with  so  much  curious  art, 
That  even  Syntax  hardly  dare 
To  claim  his  metamorphos’d  mare. 

He  said  no  more — but  kenn’d  the  joke 
Was  not  the  sport  of  vulgar  folk  ; 

So  trotted  off — and  kindly  lent 
His  smile  to  aid  the  merriment. 


272 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Now,  as  his  journey  he  pursu’d, 

He  thus  broke  forth  in  solemn  mood : — 

“ Though  time  draws  on  when  those  at  home 
Expect  that  I should  cease  to  roam  ; 

Though  I have  objects  in  my  view 
Which  are  of  great  importance  too  ; 

Yet  as  this  is  the  day  of  rest 
Appointed  both  for  man  and  beast, 

To  the  first  church  I will  repair, 

And  pay  my  solemn  duties  there.” 

Thus  as  he  spoke,  a village  chime 
Denoted  it  was  service  time  : 

And  soon  a ruddy  Curate  came, 

To  whom  he  gravely  told  his  name, 

His  rank,  and  literary  fame ; 

And  said,  as  he’d  been  used  to  teaching, 

He’d  give  him  half  an  hour’s  preaching. 

This  was  accepted  with  a smile, 

And  they  both  strutted  up  the  aisle  ; 

When,  in  due  time,  and  with  due  grace, 
Syntax  display’d  his  preaching  face. 

And  in  grave  tones,  though  somewhat  hoarse. 
He  gave  the  following  discourse:  — 


TpT^-^r  x 


Tage  272. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


“ The  subject  I shall  now  rehearse, 
Is  Job  the  fifth, — the  seventh  verse. 

“ ‘ As  sparks  rise  upwards  to  the  sky , 
So  man  is  born  to  misery .’ 

“ This  is  a truth  we  all  can  tell ; 

In  ev’ry  state  we  know  it  well. 

The  infant  in  his  cradle  lies, 

And  marks  his  trouble  as  he  cries  ; 
From  his  young  eyes  the  waters  flow, 
The  emblems  of  his  future  woe  : 

His  cheeks  the  varying  scenes  display, 
That  mark  a changeful  April  day : 
Symbols  of  joy  and  hope  appear, 

And  now  a smile,  and  then  a tear. 

The  years  of  puling  childhood  o’er, 
The  nurse’s  care  he  knows  no  more  : 
To  learning’s  discipline  assign’d, 

The  tutor  forms  his  early  mind  ; 

And  hopes  and  fears  alternate  rise, 

In  all  their  strange  varieties. 

How  oft,  disdainful  of  restraint, 

His  voice  lifts  up  the  loud  complaint, 


274 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


While  stem  correction’s  pow’rful  law 
Keeps  the  young  urchin-mind  in  awe, 
And  some  dark  cloud  for  ever  low’rs, 
To  shade  his  bright  and  playful  hours  ! 
Nor,  when  fair  Reason’s  steady  ray 
Begins  to  light  Life’s  early  day, 

Though  the  thick  mist  it  instant  clears, 
It  dries  not  up  the  source  of  tears  ; 
Nay,  ’tis  its  office,  as  we  know, 
Sometimes  to  make  those  tears  to  flow. 
For  now  the  Passions  will  impart 
Their  impulse  to  th’  unconscious  heart, 
Will  mingle  in  Youth’s  ardent  hours, 
And  plant  the  thorns  amid  the  flow’rs  ; 
While  Fancy,  in  its  various  guise, 

With  plumage  of  a thousand  dyes, 

Flits  round  the  mind  in  wanton  play, 
To  bear  each  serious  thought  away. 

The  Pleasures  seldom  tempt  in  vain 
To  join  their  gay,  deluding  train  ; 
Courting  the  easy  hearts  to  stray 
From  Reason’s  path  and  Wisdom’s  way 
And  oh  ! how  oft  the  senses  cloy 
With  what  is  call’d  the  height  of  joy  ! 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

While  pale  repentance  comes  at  last, 

To  execrate  the  pleasure  past ! 

— At  length,  to  finish’d  manhood  grown, 
The  world  receives  him  as  its  own. 

Life’s  active  busy  scenes  engage 
Each  moment  of  maturer  age  : 

Here  Pleasure  courts  him  to  her  bow’rs, 
Where  serpents  lurk  beneath  the  flow’rs  : 
Ambition  tempts  him  to  explore 
The  height  where  daring  spirits  soar, 
While  Wealth  presents  the  glitt’ring  ore, 
Which  mingles  in  each  mortal  plan, 

And  is  the  great  concern  of  man  : 

Thus  Pleasure,  Wealth,  or  love  of  pow’r, 
Employ  man’s  short  or  lengthen’d  hour. 

“ In  youth  or  manhood’s  early  day, 
Pleasure  first  meets  him  on  the  way. 

The  Syren  sings,  his  eager  ear 
Drinks  in  the  sound  so  sweet  to  hear  ; 

To  the  delicious  song  a slave, 

He  leaves  his  vessel  to  the  wave  : 

The  helm  forsaken,  on  it  goes, 

The  lightnings  flash,  the  whirlwind  blows 
t 2 


276  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

When,  by  the  furious  tempest  toss’d, 

The  gay,  the  gilded  bark  is  lost ! 

But  should  he,  ’mid  the  ocean’s  roar, 

Be  cast  upon  some  distant  shore  ; 

Then,  wand’ring  on  the  lonely  coast, 

He  sighs  to  think  what  he  has  lost ; 
Health,  ease,  and  ev’ry  joy  that  Heav’n 
Had  to  his  early  wishes  given. 

Life  still  is  his — but  life  alone 
Cannot  for  follies  past  atone, 

When  Pain  assails,  and  Hope  is  flown. 

He  feels  no  more  the  sunny  rays 
Of  smiling  hours  and  prosp’rous  days : 
The  world  turns  from  him,  nor  will  know 
The  man  of  sorrow  and  of  woe ; 

But  bids  him  to  some  cell  repair, 

In  hope  to  find  Contrition  there. 

“ Nor  is  Ambition  more  secure, 

Nor  less  the  ills  which  they  endure, 
Within  whose  breast  is  seen  to  dwell 
The  vice  by  which  the  Angels  fell. 

The  love  of  rule,  the  thirst  of  pow’r, 
Ne’er  give  a peaceful,  tranquil  hour  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  277 

’Tis  the  fierce  fever  of  the  soul 
That  maddens  for  supreme  control ; 

Whose  burning  thirst  continual  grows  ; 
Whose  pride  no  lasting  pleasure  knows  ; 
While  Hatred,  Envy,  jealous  Fear, 

Wait  on  the  proud  and  bold  career. 
Contention  ev’ry  act  attends ; 

Now  friends  are  foes — now  foes  are  friends  : 
Enjoyment  quickens  new  desire, 

And  Hope  for  ever  fans  the  fire. 

Whene’er  the  nearer  height  is  gain’d, 

A loftier  still  must  be  attain’d  ; 

And  then  the  eye  looks  keenly  round, 

In  hope  another’s  to  be  found  ; 

One— such  is  the  aspiring  soul — 

Whose  tow’ring  height  shall  crown  the  whole 
But  oft,  as  the  aspirant  gains 
The  object  of  his  toil  and  pains, 

The  giddy  view  each  sense  appals — 

In  vain  for  some  kind  help  he  calls ; 

The  faithless  friend,  th’  insulting  foe, 

Rejoice  as  to  the  gulph  below 
He  headlong  falls — a prey  to  lie, 

Of  grinning  Scorn  and  Infamy. 


278 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ Now  Kiches  next  demand  our  thought 
But  gold  may  be  too  dearly  bought, 

As  in  each  clime  and  ev’ry  soil, 

It  wakes  the  universal  toil. 

For  this,  defying  health  and  ease, 

The  Sailor  ploughs  the  distant  seas  : 

This  shares  the  Soldier’s  daring  aim. 

Who  fights  for  wealth  as  well  as  fame : 
But,  though  all  wish  its  pow’r  to  wear, 

It  proves  the  source  of  many  a care. 

Of  all  the  vices  that  infest 
The  purlieus  of  the  human  breast, 

The  love  of  Mammon  is  the  worst, 

The  most  detested  and  accurst. 

Pleasure’s  gay  moments  may  impart 
Some  gladness  to  the  human  heart ; 
Ambition,  too,  we  often  find 
The  inmate  of  a noble  mind  ; 

But  love  of  riches  ever  bears 
The  token  of  the  lowest  cares. 

We  see  one  base  unvarying  vice 
In  the  pale  form  of  Avarice  : 

It  only  lifts  its  pray’r  to  Heav’n, 

T’  increase  the  store  already  given ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  279 

Nor  does  it  e’er  the  gift  repay, 

By  shedding  one  kind  cheering  ray 
Upon  the  weather-beaten  shed, 

Where  Want  scarce  finds  the  scanty  bread, 
By  wiping  from  the  widow’s  eye 
The  flowing  tears  of  misery ; 

Or  giving  to  the  naked  form 

The  vestment  that  will  keep  it  warm. 

For  gold  it  courts  the  sleepless  night, 

And  toils  through  day’s  returning  light : 

Nor  these  alone  ; — the  cool  deceit — 

The  treach’rous  heart — the  hidden  cheat — 
The  ready  lie — the  hard  demand — 

And  Law’s  oppressive,  griping  hand  ; 

These  demons  never  fail  to  wait 
At  Mammon’s  dark  and  dreary  gate. 

What  does  he  love  ? can  it  be  told  ? 

Yes,  I can  tell : — he  loves  his  gold : 

In  that  one  term  he  comprehends 
His  kindred,  neighbourhood,  and  friends. 

But  e’en  should  Fortune  daily  pour 
Her  treasures  to  increase  his  store, 

Say,  is  he  happy  ? — Does  he  feel 
A pleasure  which  he  dare  reveal  ? 


280 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Ah,  no  ! — his  throbbing  anxious  breast 
Continued  doubts  and  fears  molest. 

See  how  he  trembles  with  affright, 

When  Justice  claims  the  widow’s  right, 
And  bids  him  at  the  bar  appear, 

To  answer  to  the  orphan’s  tear, 

By  restoration  to  atone 

For  many  a wrong  that  he  has  done. 

Nay,  a still  far  severer  doom 
May  aggravate  the  time  to  come  : 

The  scourge  without,  the  scourge  within, 
May  lash  the  unavailing  sin  ; 

And,  after  all  his  toil  and  care, 

’Tis  well  if  he  escape  Despair. 

a But  e’en  when  Pleasure  is  not  cross’d 
With  ruin’d  health  and  fortune  lost, 

Yet  still  it  leaves  a void  behind — 

And  dulness  stupifies  the  mind. 

The  season  of  enjoyment  o’er, 

The  phantom  then  can  please  no  more  : 
Brief  is  its  time,  it  soon  is  past ; 

A vernal  bloom  not  made  to  last. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  281 

Say,  what  presents  its  longest  doom  ? 

A flower,  a fever,  and  a tomb  ! 

“ What,  though  Ambition  holds  its  pow’r 
To  Life’s  extreme,  but  certain  hour, 

Is  not  its  most  exalted  joy 
Encumber’d  with  some  base  alloy  ? 

And,  on  its  proudest,  loftiest  height, 

Say,  does  it- always  find  delight  ? 

Say,  could  it  ever  guard  its  heart 
From  Fear’s  assault,  and  Envy’s  dart  ? 

It  cannot  shut  th’  averted  eye 
From  passing  life’s  mortality : 

E’en  from  its  most  aspiring  brow, 

It  must  behold  a grave  below. 

“ Though  Wealth  should  haply  be  attain’d 
By  fair  pursuits,  with  honour  gain’d, 

Yet  in  its  train  how  oft  we  see 
The  pallid  forms  of  misery. 

Intemp’rance  yields  its  foul  delight 

And  feeds  the  obnoxious  appetite ; ^ 

While  Luxury,  in  a thousand  ways, 

To  sensual  carelessness  betrays, 


282 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  lights  up  in  the  mortal  frame 
Disease’s  slow-corroding  flame. 

Fortune  in  fickle  mood  may  frown  ; 

The  firmest  base  may  tumble  down  ; 
While  it  appears  in  strength  secure, 

It  falls,  and  leaves  its  owner  poor. 

The  largest  heaps  of  treasur’d  wealth 
Cannot  restore  declining  health  ; 

They  cannot  bribe  the  sun  to  stay, 

And  mitigate  his  burning  ray ; 

Nor  will  the  North’s  imperious  cold 
Dissolve  to  genial  warmth  for  gold  : 
Time  will  not  one  short  moment  stay, 
Though  millions  lay  athwart  his  way  ; 
Nor  all  the  wealth  that  Croesus  bore 
Can  add  to  Life  one  moment  more. 

The  regal  palace  and  the  cot 
Are  subject  to  one  common  lot ; 

The  rich  and  poor,  the  small  and  great, 
Alike  must  feel  the  stroke  of  fate  : 
Virtue  alone,  we  ought  to  know, 

Is  real  happiness  below  ; 

And  yet  how  oft  her  kindness  proves, 
By  toil  and  pain,  the  child  she  loves. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Honour,  of  noble  minds  the  flow’r, 

Is  oft  betray’d  by  Treachery’s  pow’r  : 
And  Charity,  we  often  see, 

The  dupe  of  base  Hypocrisy. 

“ Who,  then,  will  venture  to  declare 
That  man’s  mistitled  sorrow’s  heir  ? 
But,  brethren,  let  us  not  complain, 
That  Heaven’s  unjust,  when  we  sustain 
Th’  allotted  term  of  care  and  pain. 

Our  life  in  such  a mould  is  cast, 

’Tis  plain  it  is  not  made  to  last ; 

’Tis  but  a state  of  trial  here, 

To  fit  us  for  a purer  sphere  ; 

A scene  of  contest  for  a prize, 

That  in  another  region  lies, 

In  better  worlds  and  brighter  skies  : 
Here  doom’d  a painful  lot  to  bear, 

Our  happiness  is  treasur’d  there. 

To  struggle  with  the  woes  of  life, 

To  wage  with  evil,  constant  strife  ; 

T’  oppose  the  Passions  as  they  rise, 
And  check  their  wild  propensities  ; 

T’  improve  our  nature,  and  to  bear 


284  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

With  patience  the  allotted  share 
Of  human  woes — and  thus  fulfil 
The  wise  and  the  eternal  Will, 

That  forms  the  grand,  mysterious  plan 
For  Mortal  and  Immortal  Man. 

“ Man  is,  indeed,  by  Heaven’s  decree, 
As  happy  as  he  ought  to  be  ; 

As  suited  to  his  state  and  nature, 

A restless,  frail,  and  finite  creature  : 

His  work  well  done— his  labour  o’er — 
Evil  and  sorrow  are  no  more  ; 

And,  having  pass’d  the  vale  of  death, 
He  claims  the  never-fading  wreath  ; 
Glory’s  eternal  crown  to  share, 

Which  Cherubs  sing  and  Angels  wear  : 
Then  is  complete  th’  amazing  plan, 

And  Mortal  ic  Immortal  Man.” 


Here  Syntax  thought  it  fit  to  close  : — 
Th’  admiring  congregation  rose  ; 

And  after  certain  hems  and  ha’s, 

The  ’Squire  nodded  his  applause  : 


Page  284. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  285 

Nay,  such  attention  he  had  given 
To  the  sage  Minister  of  Heaven, 

That  neither  did  he  sleep  nor  snore — 

A wonder  never  known  before. 

Then  quickly  issuing  from  his  pew, 

He  came  to  thank  the  Doctor  too. 

“ Sir,  your  discourse,  so  good  and  fine, 

Proves  you  to  be  a great  divine, 

While  I,  alas  ! am  but  a sinner ; 

So  you’ll  go  home  with  me  to  dinner ; 

And,  shortly  after  ev’ning  prayer, 

The  Curate  too  will  meet  you  there,” 

The  Doctor  found  the  house  well  stor’d  ; 

A chatt’ring  wife,  and  plenteous  board  : 

The  dinner  was  a pleasing  sight, 

For  preaching  gets  an  appetite  : 

And  Syntax  could  perform  them  both 
As  well  as  any  of  the  cloth. 

At  length,  the  eatables  remov’d, 

The  ’Squire  began  the  talk  he  lov’d. 

’squire. 

“ Have  you  much  game,  Sir,  where  you  live  V 


286 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“ An  answer,  Sir,  I scarce  can  give  : 

I never  hunt,  nor  bear  a gun  ; 

I have  no  time,  nor  like  the  fun. 
Learning’s  the  game  which  I pursue  . 

I have  no  other  sport  in  view  : 

But  I have  heard — the  country  round 
With  hares  and  partridge  does  abound  ; 
Though  on  my  table  it  is  rare 
To  see  or  one  or  t’other  there. 

Oft  when  I rise  at  early  morn, 

And  hear  the  cheerful,  echoing  horn, 

I ’m  forc’d  from  the  inspiring  noise, 

To  hunt  a pack  of  idle  boys  ; 

And  when  they  babble,  in  their  din, 

I am  a special  whipper-in  : 

Nay,  if  they  should  be  found  at  fault, 

I crack  my  whip  Sir,  as  I ought.” 

Syntax  now  told  his  story  o’er, 

A story  told  so  oft  before  ; 

When  soon  the  ’Squire  began  to  feel 
A slumber  o’er  his  senses  steal : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  287 

The  Curate,  too,  bemus’d  in  beer, 

Was  more  dispos’d  to  sleep  than  hear. 

Says  Syntax,  “ See  the  effect  of  drink  ! 

Heav’n  spare  the  souls  which  cannot  think ! 
But  I will  not  their  sleep  molest ; 

The  Sabbath  is  a day  of  rest.” 

In  short,  his  words  no  more  prevail ; 

There  now  were  none  to  hear  his  tale : 

He  strove  another  pipe  to  smoke, 

But  there  were  none  to  hear  his  joke  ; 

So  on  his  elbow  he  reclin’d, 

And  thus  the  sleeping  party  join’d. 

The  clock  struck  ten  ere  they  awoke, 

When  a shrill  voice  their  slumbers  broke  ; 

In  such  a tone  it  seem’d  to  come, 

That  Syntax  thought  himself  at  home  : 

So,  having  yawn’d  and  shook  their  heads, 
They  wish’d  good-night,  and  sought  their  beds. 


288 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XXII. 

HE  clock  struck  five 
when  Syntax  woke ; 
The  sounding  door 
his  slumbers  broke : 
When  a soft  female 
voice  related 
That  breakfast  and  her 
master  waited : 

Up  rose  the  Doctor,  down  he  went, 

With  joyful  look  and  heart  content. 

“ Well,”  said  the  ’Squire,  “ I hope  you’ll  stay 
And  pass  with  me  another  day  ; 

The  sporting  season’s  coming  on, 

And  something  now  is  to  be  done  ; 

For  I must  breathe  my  dogs  a bit, 

And  try  my  gun  at  some  tomtit. 

You’ll  take  a stroll  around  the  fields, 

And  see  what  game  my  manor  yields.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  289 

Says  Syntax,  “ ’Tis  not  in  my  power 
To  pass  with  you  another  hour  ; 

While  you  perform  your  sporting  feats, 

I must  be  tramping  London  streets  : 

You,  therefore,  will  my  thanks  receive, 

For  now,  Sir,  I must  take  my  leave.” 

The  ’Squire  replied — “ All  I can  say — 
Another  time,  a longer  stay.” 

He  then  walk’d  off  with  dog  and  gun, 

While  Syntax  travell’d  slowly  on  ; 

And,  o’er  the  hill,  or  on  the  plain, 

Indulg’d  the  contemplative  strain. 

“ I cannot, — while  I Nature  view, 

Cloth’d  in  her  robe  of  verdant  hue, 

Or  when  the  changeful  veil  is  thrown 
Of  Summer’s  gold,  or  Autumn’s  brown, 

Or  midst  the  scenes  of  snow  and  frost. 

When  her  gay  colouring  is  lost ; — 

I cannot  but  the  Pow’r  admire 
That  gives  such  charms  to  her  attire  : 

Nor  do  her  wond’rous  shapes,  that  rise 
In  countless  forms  to  meet  the  eyes, 

Mark  with  less  force  th’  unerring  soul, 
u 


290  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Which  with  such  beauty  decks  the  whole. 
The  mountain’s  top,  that  seems  to  meet 
The  height  of  Heaven’s  imperial  seat ; 
The  rocks,  the  valley’s  guardian  pride, 

Or  bound’ries  of  the  ocean’s  tide, 

That  oft,  in  grand  confusion  hurl’d, 

Seem  like  the  fragments  of  a world 
While  the  low  hill  and  vale  between, 
Appear  to  variegate  the  scene. 

But  lesser  forms  invite  to  trace 
Fair  Nature’s  ever- varying  face  : 

The  humble  shrub,  the  spreading  tree, 

In  this  same  principle  agree. 

Along  the  ground  the  brambles  crawl, 
And  the  low  hyssop  tops  the  wall ; 

The  bulrush  rises  from  the  sedge, 

The  wild-rose  blossoms  in  the  hedge  ; 
While  flowers  of  ev’ry  colour  shed 
A fragrance  from  their  native  bed. 

The  streamlet,  winding  through  the  glade, 
The  hanging  wood,  the  forest  shade  ; 

The  river’s  bold  and  flowing  wave, 

Doth  many  a peopled  margin  lave, 

Till,  with  increasing  course,  ’tis  seen 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  291 

To  blend  its  white  waves  with  the  green. 

Nor  these  alone  ; — how  various  they, 

Who  cleave  the  air,  or  skim  the  sea, 

Or  range  the  plain,  or,  from  the  brow, 

Look  down  upon  the  vale  below ! 

The  cygnet’s  snow,  the  peacock’s  dyes, 

The  pigeon’s  neck,  the  eagle’s  eyes  ; 

Nor  less  in  beauty  do  they  rove, 

Who  form  the  music  of  the  grove. 

The  elephant’s  resistless  force  ; 

The  strength  and  spirit  of  the  horse  ; 

The  ermine’s  softness,  and  the  boar, 

With  rising  bristles  cover’d  o’er. 

Thus,  throughout  Nature’s  various  state, 

Of  living  or  inanimate, 

In  ev’ry  different  class  we  see 
How  boundless  the  variety  ! 

What  playful  change  in  all  we  know 
Of  this  mysterious  world  below  ; 

In  all  where  instinct  motion  gives, 

In  what  by  vegetation  lives  : 

But  these  are  trivial,  when  we  look 
Through  the  first  page  of  Nature’s  book, 

u 2 


292 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


When,  half-inspir’d,  we’re  taught  to  scan 
The  vast  varieties  of  man.” 

Thus,  in  deep  metaphysic  mood, 
Syntax  his  shorten’d  way  pursued, 

And  many  a system  had  been  brought 
To  ripen  in  his  learned  thought ; 

But  none  arose  which  did  not  tend 
Poor  human  nature  to  befriend  ; 

None  but  were  aptly  form’d  to  prove 
The  firm  support  of  social  love. 

Thus,  all  bemus’d  he  took  his  way, 
Unconscious  of  the  passing  day  ; 

And,  thus  employ’d  in  cogitating, 

No  wonder  he  ne’er  thought  of  baiting ; 
No  wonder  that  it  came  to  pass, 

When  Grizzle  saw  a little  grass, 

That  he,  contemplating  the  view 
Of  knotty  questions,  never  knew 
She  stopp’d  to  take  a bite  or  two  : 

Or,  when  they  pass’d  a limpid  brook, 
That  she  a plenteous  beverage  took  ; 

Or  if,  by  chance  upon  the  road, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  293 

They  found  a cart  with  hay  well-stow’d, 

She  lagg’d  behind  to  crop  the  fare, 

And  levy  contributions  there. 

But  now  a trumpet’s  warlike  sound 
’Woke  Syntax  from  his  dream  profound  ; 
While  Grizzle  frisk’d,  and  mov’d  on  straight, 
With  many  a prancing,  to  the  gate, 

Where,  in  a gorgeous  cap  of  fur, 

Stood  the  proclaiming  Trumpeter, 

With  face  as  the  old  Lion  red, 

Which  dangling  hung  above  his  head. 

“ Oh  ! ” he  exclaim’d,  “ I now  could  swear 
I see  again  the  Grizzle  mare  ; 

I know  her  well  by  that  same  scar 
Which  she  got  with  me  in  the  war  ; 

For  she  received  that  angry  hack 
While  I was  sounding  on  her  back  ; 

A furious  Hussar  onward  came, 

And  struck  at  me,  but  miss’d  his  aim  ; 

When  my  poor  mare  receiv’d  the  blow, 

And  straight  the  blood  began  to  flow  ; 

Nay,  the  same  sword  had  crack’d  my  crown, 
But  my  brave  comrade,  Stephen  Brown , 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Came  up  and  cut  the  Frenchman  down. 

I have  been  borne  by  that  same  grey 
Through  many  a rough  and  bloody  day  : 
Her  ears  well  know  the  martial  strain  ; — 
I’m  glad  to  see  her  once  again.” 

“ That  well  may  be  ; — but,  for  her  ears, 
A wicked  clown’s  infernal  shears 
Have  robb’d  her,”  Syntax  smiling  said, 

“ Of  the  fair  honours  of  her  head  ; 

Nor  did  one  tender  thought  prevail, 

From  the  same  fate  to  save  her  tail.” 

He  then  proceeded  to  relate 
Her  past  mishap  and  present  state  ; 

And  ask’d  the  Trumpeter  to  share 
A flowing  bowl  and  ev’ning  fare. 

Now  Syntax  sat  and  heard  the  story 
The  soldier  told  of  England’s  glory  ; 

How  British  columns  fought  their  way, 
And  drove  the  foe,  and  won  the  day : 
How  oft  he  did  his  breath  enlarge, 

To  call  to  arms  and  sound  the  charge  ; 
But,  though  he  rous’d  to  many  a feat, 

He  never  sounded  a retreat. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  295 

Still  he  declaim’d  in  modest  tone, 

For  England’s  glory  was  his  own. 

“ Oft  have  I seen  in  bright  array, 

(Sure  promise  of  a glorious  day), 

The  martial  bands  alive  to  meet 
Their  foes,  and  lay  them  at  their  feet ; 

And,  when  my  breathing  trumpet  told  ’em 
To  go  and  conquer, — to  behold  ’em 
At  once  their  beaming  blades  display, 

And  rush  on  their  victorious  way, 

I felt  the  inexpressive  joy 

Which  grim-fac’d  danger  could  not  cloy. 

If  that  same  Grizzle  steed  you  rode 
Could  speak,  she’d  tell  the  ground  she  trod 
Was  oft,  alas  ! all  cover’d  o’er 
With  soldiers  slain  and  clotted  gore. 

Full  many  a hair-breadth  ’scape  I’ve  seen ; 

In  many  a peril  I have  been  ; 

And  soon  again  the  time  may  come, 

When,  order’d  from  our  native  home, 

We  shall  seek  foreign  climes,  to  share 
The  dangers  and  the  din  of  war  : 

So  be  it ! I ’m  prepar’d  to  go, 


296 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Wherever  I may  meet  the  foe  ; 
And  should  it  be  my  lot  to  die, 
I have  no  wife  or  babes  to  cry  ; 


And  ’mid  what  bloodshed  I may  fall, 
There’ll  be  an  end  of  Thomas  Hall” 

Said  Syntax,  “ It  is  well,  my  friend, 
To  be  prepar’d  to  meet  our  end ; 

To  do  that  well,  I’m  call’d  to  preach  ; 
’Thj  a prime  duty  which  I teach  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

But  thoughts  of  a far  diff’rent  kind 
Just  now  employ  my  anxious  mind : 

The  present  busy  hours  must  claim 
Attention  to  my  purse  and  fame  ; 

And,  as  I think  ’twould  prove  a joke 
To  show  my  mare  to  London  folk, 

It  has  just  come  into  my  mind 
To  leave  poor  Grizzle  here  behind, 

And  let  some  stage  or  mail  convey 
My  bags  and  me  my  onward  way. 
Perhaps,  for  old-acquaintance  sake, 

Of  my  poor  beast  the  care  you’ll  take  ?j’ 
“ If  so,”  the  Trumpeter  replied, 

“ ’Twill  be  my  honour  and  my  pride. 
God  bless  your  Rev’rence, — never  fear — 
Your  mare  shall  have  protection  here  ; 
When  you  return,  her  looks  will  tell, 
That  her  old  friend  has  us’d  her  well.” 

A horn  now  told  the  near  approach 
Of  some  convenient,  rapid  coach  ; 

And  soon  a vehicle  and  four 
Appear’d  at  the  Red  Lion  door  : 

Into  his  place  the  Doctor  pounc’d ; 


£98 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  coachman  smack’d,  and  off  they  bounc’d. 
The  scene  around  was  quite  composing, 

For  his  companions  all  were  dozing  ; 

So  he,  forsooth,  conceiv’d  it  best 
To  close  his  lids  and  try  to  rest. 

When  the  morn  dawn’d  he  turn’d  an  eye 
Upon  his  slumb’ring  company  : 

A red-fac’d  man,  who  snor’d  and  snorted, 

A lady,  with  both  eyes  distorted, 

And  a young  miss  of  pleasing  mien, 

With  all  the  life  of  gay  sixteen. 

A sudden  jolt  their  slumbers  broke ; 

They  started  all,  and  all  awoke  ; 

When  Surly-boots  yawn’d  wide,  and  spoke. 
“We  move,”  said  he,  “ confounded  slow 
“ La,  Sir,”  cried  Miss,  “ how  fast  we  go  ! ” 
While  madam,  with  a smirking  face, 

Declar’d  it  was  a middling  pace. 

“ Pray,  what  think  you,  Sir  ? ” — u I agree,” 
Said  simp’ring  Syntax,  “ with  all  three  : 

Up  hill,  our  course  is  rather  slow  ; 

Down  hill,  how  merrily  we  go  ! 

But  when  ’tis  neither  up  nor  down, 

It  is  a middling  pace  I own.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  299 


“ Oh,  la ! ” cried  Miss,  the  thought’s  so 
pretty ! ” 

“ Oh,  yes ! ” growl’d  Bed-face,  “ very 
witty ! ” 

The  lady  said,  “ If  I can  scan 
The  temper  of  the  gentleman, 

He’s  one  of  those,  I have  no  doubt, 

Who  loves  to  let  his  humour  out ; 

Nor  fails  his  thread-bare  wit  to  play 
On  all  who  come  within  his  way : 

But  we,  who  in  these  stages  roam, 

And  leave  our  coach-and-four  at  home, 
Deserve  our  lot  when  thus  we  talk 
With  those  who  were  ordain’d  to  walk  ! 
And  now,  my  niece,  you  see  how  wrong 
It  is  to  use  your  flippant  tongue, 

And  chatter,  as  you’re  apt  to  do, 

With  any  one — the  Lord  knows  who.” 
Surly  turn’d  round,  and  friendly  sleep 
Soon  o’er  his  senses  ’gan  to  creep  ; 

So  Syntax  thought  he’d  overlook 
The  embryo  of  his  future  Book : 

Thus  all  was  silence  till  they  came 
To  the  great  town  we  London  name 


300 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Our  sage  thought  wisely  that  the  din, 
Which  he  should  hear  about  an  inn, 

Would  not  assist  his  studious  hours, 

Nor  aid  his  intellectual  powers, 

To  make  his  volume  fit  to  show 
The  Dons  of  Paternoster  Bow  ; 

And  as  his  Patron  of  the  North, 

That  Lord  renown’ d for  sense  and  worth, 
Had  bid  him  make  his  house  his  home 
Whenever  he  to  town  should  come, 

He  was  resolved  to  try  his  fate 
In  knocking  at  his  Lordship’s  gate. 

At  that  same  gate  he  soon  appear’d  ; 

My  Lord  with  smiles  the  Doctor  cheer’d. 

“ You  have  done  well,  my  learned  friend, 
Hither  your  early  steps  to  bend  ; 

Bus’ness  has  brought  me  up  to  town, 

And  thus  you  find  me  all  alone  : 

Here  pitch  your  tent  and  pass  your  hour 
In  working  up  your  pleasant  Tour ; 

And,  when  ’tis  done,  I’ll  aid  your  scheme — 
It  shall  not  prove  an  idle  dream.” 

Syntax  receiv’d  his  Lordship’s  grace 
With  moisten’d  eye,  but  smiling  face, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

And  for  ten  days,  at  morn  and  night, 

He  toil’d  to  bring  his  book  to  light ; 

While  the  few  intervening  hours 
Were  render’d  gay  with  wine  and  flow’rs.* 

My  Lord,  by  gen’rous  friendship  mov’d, 
Now  read  his  Volume,  and  approv’d. 
“Think  not,”  said  he,  “I  fondly  give 
Opinions,  tending  to  deceive  : 

That  I’m  sincere,  my  friend,  you’ll  see, 
When  I declare  that  you  are  free 
To  dedicate  your  Book  to  me  : 

Nor  is  this  all — I’ll  recommend 
My  very  pleasant,  learned  friend 
To  one  who  has  as  lib’ral  feeling 
As  any  in  this  kind  of  dealing  : 

And  when  my  letter  you  present, 

He’ll  take  the  work,  and  give  content. 
Thus,  my  good  Sir,  I’ve  done  my  best : 
You’ll  see  him  and  explain  the  rest.” 

The  Doctor  now  received  his  papers 
In  spirits  almost  cut  to  capers  ; 

* Hue  vina  et  unguenta  et  nimium  breves, 

Flores  amoe  nse  ferre  jube  rosae. 


302 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Nor  did  he  then  delay  to  go, 

Not  to  the  realms  of  sight  and  show, 

But  those  of  JPaternoster  Bow. 

The  shop  he  enter’d  ; — all  around 
He  saw  the  shelves  with  volumes  crown’d, 

In  Russia  and  Morocco  bound  : 

And  when  he  had,  with  fond  delight, 

Glanc’d  o’er  the  literary  sight, 

“ Go,  call  your  master,”  Syntax  said 
To  an  attendant  on  the  trade  ; 

“ Tell  him  that  a D.D.  is  here : ” 

The  lad  then  answer’d  with  a sneer, 

“ To  no  D.D.  will  he  appear ; 

He  would  not  come  for  all  the  knowledge 
Of  Oxford  or  of  Cambridge  College  : 

I cannot  go,  as  I’m  a sinner  ; 

I dare  not  interrupt  his  dinner : 

You  know  not  how  I should  be  blam’d 
Stamping  his  foot,  Syntax  exclaim’d, 

“ Apollo  and  the  Muses  nine ! 

Must  Learning  wait  while  tradesmen  dine  ? ” 
“ They’re  common  hacks,”  replied  the  boy  ; 
“We  never  such  as  those  employ 
I’ve  heard  their  names,  but  this  I know, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

They  seldom  come  into  the  Row.” 
The  master,  who  had  fill’d  his  crop 


In  a smart  room  behind  the  shop, 

On  hearing  a loud  angry  voice, 

Came  forth  to  know  what  caus’d  the  noise 


304  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

And  left  his  wife  and  bottle  too, 

To  see  about  this  strange  to-do. 

He  was  a man,  whose  ample  paunch 
Was  made  of  beef,  and  ham,  and  haunch 
And  when  he  saw  the  shri veil’d  form 
Of  Syntax,  he  began  to  storm. 

BOOKSELLER. 

“ I wish  to  know,  Sir,  what  you  mean, 
By  kicking  up,  Sir,  such  a scene  ? 

And  who  you  are,  Sir,  and  your  name, 
And  on  what  errand  here  you  came  ? ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ My  errand  was  to  bid  you  look 
With  care  and  candour  on  this  Book  ; 
And  tell  me  whether  you  think  fit 
To  buy,  or  print,  or  publish  it  ? 

The  subject  which  the  work  contains 
Is  Art  and  Nature’s  fair  domains  ; 

’Tis  form’d  the  curious  to  allure  ; — 

In  short,  good  man,  it  is  a Tour ; 

With  drawings  all  from  nature  made, 
And  with  no  common  skill  display’d  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  305 

Each  house,  each  place,  each  lake,  each  tree, 
These  fingers  drew — these  eyes  did  see.” 

BOOKSELLER. 

“ A Tour  indeed  ; I’ve  had,  enough 
Of  Tours  and  such-like  flimsy  stuff. 

What  a fool’s  errand  you  have  made, 

(I  speak  the  language  of  the  trade,) 

To  travel  all  the  country  o’er, 

And  write  what  has  been  writ  before  ! 

We  can  get  Tours — don’t  make  wry  faces, 
From  those  who  never  saw  the  places  ! 

I know  a man,  who  has  the  skill 
To  make  you  books  of  Tours  at  will ; 

A.nd  from  his  garret  in  Moorfields 
Can  see  what  ev’ry  country  yields  ; 

So,  if  you  please,  you  may  retire, 

And  throw  your  book  into  the  fire  : 

You  need  not  grin,  my  friend,  nor  vapour ; 

I would  not  buy  it  for  waste  paper ! ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Blockhead  ! and  is  it  thus  you  treat 
The  men  by  whom  you  drink  and  eat  ? 
x 


306  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Do  you  not  know,  and  must  I tell  ye, 
’Tis  they  fill  out  your  monstrous  belly  ? 
Yes,  booby  ! from  such  skulls  as  mine 
You  lap  your  soup,  and  drink  your  wine 
Without  one  single  ray  of  sense 
But  what  relates  to  pounds  and  pence. 
Thus  good  and  evil  form  the  whole — 
Heavbn  gave  you  wealth,  and  me  a soul 
And  I would  never  be  an  ass 
For  all  your  gold,  with  all  your  brass. 
When  humble  authors  come  to  sue, 
(Those  very  men  that  pamper  you,) 

You  feel  like.  Jove  in  all  his  pride, 

With  Juno  squatting  by  his  side.” 

BOOKSELLER. 

“ How  dare  you,  villain,  to  defame 
My  dearest  wife’s  unsullied  name  ? 

Yes,  she’s  my  wife  ! ten  years  ago 
The  parson  join’d  our  hands  at  Bowy 
And  she’s  the  flower  of  all  our  j Row. 

As  for  Miss  Juno , she’s  a harlot, 

You  foul-mouth’d,  and  malicious  varlet ! 
A prostitute,  who  is  well  known 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  307 

To  all  the  rakes  about  the  town  ; 

First  with  a footman  off  she  ran, 

And  now  lives  with  an  alderman.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Have  done— have  done  ! pray  read  that  letter, 
And  then  I think  you’ll  treat  me  better.” 

• BOOKSELLER. 

“ Sir,  had  you  shown  the  letter  first, 

My  very  belly  should  have  burst 
Before  I would  have  said  a word 
Your  learned  ears  should  not  have  heard  ; 

But,  in  this  world  wherein  we  live, 

We  must  forget,  Sir,  and  forgive. 

These  little  heats  will  sometimes  start 
From  the  most  friendly,  gen’rous  heart. 

My  Lord  speaks  highly  of  your  merit, 

As  of  the  talents  you  inherit ; 

He  writes  himself  supremely  well ; 

His  works  are  charming — for  they  sell. 

I pray  you  take  a glass  of  wine  ; 

Perhaps,  Sir,  you  have  yet  to  dine : 

We  now,  I fear,  have  nothing  hot : 
x 2 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


My  dear,  put  something  in  the  pot  ; 

Twill  soon  be  done  ; or  tell  our  Nan 
To  toss  a cutlet  in  the  pan. 

His  Lordship  here  expressly  says 
Your  work  transcends  his  utmost  praise  ; 
Desires  the  printing  may  commence, 

And  he’ll  be  bound  for  the  expense. 

The  book  will  sell,  I have  no  doubt, 

I’ll  spare  no  pains  to  bring  it  out : 

A work  like  this  must  not  be  stinted, 

Two  thousand  copies  shall  be  printed. 
And  if  you  please ” 

SYNTAX. 

“ I cannot  stay  : 
We’ll  talk  of  that  another  day  : 

When  I came  out,  I gave  my  word 
To  take  my  dinner  with  my  Lord.” 

BOOKSELLER. 

“ Perhaps  some  other  time  you’ll  come, 
When  my  good  Lord  may  dine  from  home 
It  will  be  kind,  indeed,  to  share, 

Quite  as  a friend,  our  humble  fare  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  309 

In  the  mean  time  yon  may  command, 

In  ev’ry  sense,  my  heart  and  hand.” 

Thus  (such  are  this  world’s  odds  and  ends) 
Though  foes  they  met — they  parted  friends. 


310 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CANTO  XXIII. 

IIATE’ER  of  genius  or  of 
merit, 

The  child  of  labour  may 
inherit, 

They  will  not,  in  this 
mortal  state, 

Or  give  him  wealth,  or 
make  him  great, 

Unless  that  strange,  capricious  dame, 

Whom  Pagan  poets  Fortune  name, 

That  unseen,  ever  active  pow’r, 

Propitious  aids  his  toilsome  hour. 

Throughout  my  life  IVe  struggled  hard ; 

And  what  has  been  my  lean  reward  ? 

What  have  I gain’d  by  learned  lore, 

By  deeply  reading  o’er  and  o’er, 

What  ev’ry  ancient  sage  has  writ, 

Renown’d  for  pure  and  Attic  wit ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  311 

Or  those  rich  volumes  which  dispense 
The  strains  of  Roman  eloquence  ? 

No  fav’ring  patrons  have  I got, 

But  just  enough  to  boil  the  pot. 

What  though,  by  toil  and  pain,  I know 
Where  ev’ry  Hebrew  root  doth  grow, 

And  can  each  hidden  truth  descry 
From  Genesis  to  Malachi; 

Yet  I have  never  been  decreed 
To  shear  the  fleeces  that  I feed : 

No,  they  enrich  the  idle  dunce, 

Who  never  saw  his  flock  but  once. 

And  meanly  grudges  e’en  to  spare 
My  pittance  for  their  weekly  fare. 

Have  I made  any  real  friends, 

By  wasting  eyes  and  candles’  ends  ? 

And  though  a good  musician  too, 

WRat  did  my  fiddle  ever  do  ? 

I sometimes  might  employ  its  pow’r 
To  soothe  an  over-anxious  hour  ; 

But  though  it  with  my  temper  suits, 

It  never  yet  could  soften  brutes. 

My  sketching-pencil,  too,  is  known 
In  ev’ry  house  throughout  the  town  ; 


312  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

For,  to  replace  some  horrid  scrawl, 

My  drawings  hang  on  ev’ry  wall : 

And  yet,  ’tis  true,  as  I’m  a sinner, 

They  seldom  paid  me  with  a dinner. 
What  do  I get,  poor  boys  to  teach, 

And  drive  in  learning  at  the  breech  ? 

A task,  which  Lucian  says,  is  given 
As  the  worst  punishment  from  Heaven. 
While  Fortune’s  boobies  cut  and  carve, 
I may  be  said  to  teach  and  starve  ; 

Too  happy,  if,  on  Christmas-day, 

I’ve  just  enough  the  duns  to  pay. 
Though  sometimes  I have  almost  swore, 
WTien,  from  the  threshold  of  the  door, 
My  poverty  repell’d  the  poor  ; 

When  the  cask,  emptied  of  its  ale, 

No  more  the  thirsty  could  regale. 

“ At  length  the  lucky  moment  came, 
To  fill  my  purse  and  give  me  fame  ! 
And,  after  all  my  labours  past, 

Hope  bids  me  look  for  rest  at  last. 

For  scarce  had  I one  prosp’rous  hour 
Till  Fortune  bid  me  Write  a Tour . 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

Oft  have  I said  in  words  unkind, 

That  strumpet  Fortune’s  very  blind  ! 
But  now  I think  the  wench  can  see, 
Since  she’s  become  so  kind  to  me. 

To  say  the  truth,  I scarce  believe 
The  favours  which  I now  receive  : 

In  a Lord’s  house  I take  my  rest, 

A welcome  and  an  honour’d  guest : 

The  favours  on  my  Tour  I found 
Are  by  his  present  kindness  crown’d. 

I’d  heard,  indeed,  that  these  same  lordf 
Were  only  friendly  in  their  words  ; 

But  truth  alone  my  patron  moves, 
Whose  friendship  ev’ry  promise  proves.’ 

Thus  Syntax  did  his  feelings  broach, 
As  he  reclin’d  within  a coach  ; 

For,  pond’ring  as  he  pass’d  along, 

He  was  sore  pummell’d  by  the  throng 
Now  by  a porter’s  package  greeted, 
Now  on  the  pavement  he  was  seated  ; 
While,  deafen’d  by  a news-boy’s  din, 

A fruit-girl’s  barrow  strikes  his  shin  ; 
And  as  his  cautious  course  he  guides, 


314 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  passing  elbows  punch  his  sides  ; 

While  a cart-wheel,  with  luckless  spirt, 
Gives  him  a taste  of  London  dirt : 

At  length,  to  get  in  safety  back, 

He  sought  the  comforts  of  a hack. 

His  little  journey  at  an  end, 

The  Doctor  join’d  his  noble  friend  : 
Together  they  in  comfort  dine, 

Then  munch’d  their  cakes,  and  sipped  their 
wine ; 

When  Syntax,  briefly,  thus  display’d 
His  parley  with  the  man  of  trade. 

“ I owe  unto  your  Lordship’s  name 
My  future  gains  in  gold  and  fame. 

My  uncomb’d  wig, — my  suit  of  black, 
Which  had  grown  rusty  on  my  back, 

My  grisly  visage,  pale  and  thin, 

My  carcass,  nought  but  bones  and  skin, 
Presented  to  the  tradesman’s  eye 
The  ghastly  form  of  poverty  : 

Nor  would  he  deign  to  cast  a look 
Upon  the  pages  of  my  book  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  315 

But,  with  the  fierceness  of  a Turk, 

In  sorry  terms  revil’d  my  work  ; 

And  let  loose  all  his  purse-proud  spleen 
Against  a thing  he  ne’er  had  seen  : 

But  your  kind  note,  where  it  was  said 
That  all  expenses  should  be  paid, 

New-dy’d  my  coat,  new-cock’d  my  hat, 
Powder’d  my  wig,  and  made  me  fat. 

His  eye  now  saw  me  plump  and  sleek, 

With  not  a wrinkle  in  my  cheek  ; 

And  strength,  and  stateliness,  and  vigour, 
Completed  my  important  figure ; 

While,  in  my  pocket,  his  keen  look 
Glanc’d  at  your  Lordship’s  pocket-book. 
’Twas  now — 4 I’m  sure  the  work  will  sell, 

And  pay  the  learned  author  well 

Then  grac’d  his  shrill  and  sputt’ring  speeches 

With  pulling  up  his  monstrous  breeches  ; 

And  made  me  all  the  humblest  bows 
His  vast  protuberance  allows  : 

For  had  he  come  with  purse  in  hand, 

E’en  Satan  might  his  press  command  *, 

So  that  the  book  had  not  a flaw, 

To  risk  the  dangers  of  the  law. 


316 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Prove  but  his  gains — and  he’d  be  civil, 

Or  to  the  Doctor  or  the  DeviL” 

Thus  Syntax  and  his  patron  sat, 

And  thus  prolong’d  the  ev’ning  chat. 

MY  LORD. 

“ Your  rapid  pencil  fairly  traces 
Men’s  characters  as  well  as  faces  : 

Your  latter  sketch  is  true  to  Nature, 

And  gives  me  Vellum? s ev’ry  feature. 

With  all  your  various  talents  fraught, 

So  deeply  read,  so  ably  taught, 

I feel  a curious  wish  to  know 

From  whence  your  high  endowments  flow  ; 

And  how  it  happens,  that  a man, 

Whose  worth  I scarce  know  how  to  scan. 
Should  ne’er  have  reach’d  a better  state, 
Than  seems  to  be  your  present  fate.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ My  Lord,  a very  scanty  page 
Will  tell  my  birth  and  parentage  : 

A mod’rate  circle  will  contain 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

My  round  of  pleasure  and  of  pain, 

Till  you,  my  ever  honour’d  friend, 

Bade  my  horizon  wide  extend, 

And  lighted  up  a brighter  ray, 

To  beam  upon  my  clouded  day. 

“ My  father  was  a noble  creature, 

As  e’er  was  form’d  by  pregnant  Nature 
A learned  clerk,  a sound  divine, 

A fav’rite  of  the  Virgins  Nine, 

Who  dwell  upon  Parnassian  hill, 

Or  bathe  in  Heliconian  rill. 

In  the  sequester’d  vale  of  life, 

An  equal  foe  to  pride  and  strife, 

He  pass’d  his  inoffensive  day 
In  teaching  virtue’s  peaceful  way  : 

A shepherd,  form’d  his  flock  to  bless 
In  this  world’s  thorny  wilderness, 

And  lead  them,  when  their  time  is  o’er, 
To  where,  good  man  ! he’s  gone  before. 
Ambition  ne’er  disturb’d  his  rest, 

Nor  bred  a serpent  in  his  breast, 

To  sting  his  peace  ; no  sordid  care 
Corroded  the  contentment  there  ; 


318 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


While  he  possess’d  an  income  clear 
Of  full  five  hundred  pounds  a year. 


“ My  mother,  first  of  woman-kind, 

In  figure,  feature,  and  in  mind, 

In  her  calm  sphere  contented  mov’d, 

The  counterpart  of  him  she  lov’d. 

Form’d  to  adorn  the  highest  lot, 

She  grac’d  the  Vicar’s  rural  cot, 

With  all  those  manners  that  became 
The  parson’s  wife,  the  village  dame. 

They  liv’d  and  lov’d — and  might  have  wore 
The  Flitch , when  twenty  years  were  o’er. 


“ An  only  child  appear’d,  to  prove 
The  pledge  of  fond,  connubial  love. 

I was  that  child—  a darling  boy  ; 
Their  daily  hope,  their  daily  joy. 

My  anxious  father  did  not  spare 
The  urchin  to  another’s  care  ; 

He  taught  the  little  forward  elf 
To  be  the  image  of  himself ; 

And  from  the  cradle  he  began 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  319 

To  form  and  shape  the  future  man. 

When  fifteen  summer  suns  had  shed 
Their  lustre  on  my  curly  head, 

To  Alma  Mater  he  consign’d. 

With  pious  hope,  my  rip’ning  mind. 

“ There,  seVn  short  years  (for  short  they 
were) 

Fair  science  was  my  only  care  ; 

I gave  my  nights,  I gave  my  days, 

To  Tully’s  page  and  Homer’s  lays. 

Whate’er  is  known  of  ancient  lore 
I fondly  studied  o’er  and  o’er  : 

I follow’d  each  appointed  course, 

And  trac’d  up  learning  to  its  source  ; 

But  in  my  way  I gather’d*  flow’rs, 

I sought  the  Muses  in  their  bowers, 

And  did  their  fav’ring  smiles  repay 
With  many  a lyric  roundelay  ; 

Nor  did  I fail  the  arts  to  woo 
Of  music  and  of  painting  too. 

Thus  was  my  early  manhood  pass’d 
In  happiness  too  great  to  last. 

My  father  died— and  ere  his  urn 


320  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

Had  fill’d  my  arms,  I had  to  mourn 
A mother,  who  refus’d  to  stay, 

When  her  lov’d  mate  was  ta’en  away. 

\ 

“ What  follow’d  ? — I was  left  alone, 

And  the  world  seiz’d  me  as  its  own. 

I sought  gay  Fashion’s  motley  throng, 

On  Pleasure’s  tide  I sail’d  along ; 

Till,  by  rude  storms  and  tempests  toss’d, 
My  shatter’d  bark  at  length  was  lost ; 
While  I stood  naked  on  the  shore, 

My  treasure  gone,  my  pleasure  o’er. 

“Now,  chang’d  by  Fortune’s  fickle  wind, 
The  friends  I cherish’d  prov’d  unkind  : 

All  those  who  shar’d  my  prosp’rous  day, 
Whene’er  they  saw  me — turn’d  away ; 

And,  as  I almost  wanted  bread, 

I undertook  a bear  to  lead, 

To  see  the  brute  perform  his  dance, 
Through  Holland,  Italy,  and  France  ; 

But  it  was  such  a very  Bruin, 

To  be  with  him  was  worse  than  ruin 
So,  having  pac’d  o’er  classic  ground, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

And  sail’d  the  Grecian  Isles  around, 

(A  pleasure,  sure,  beyond  compare, 
Though  link’d  in  couples  with  a bear.) 

I took  my  leave  and  left  the  cub, 

Some  humble  Swiss  to  pay  and  drub  : 
Yet,  when  I reach’d  my  native  shore, 
Determin’d  to  lead  bears  no  more, 

No  better  prospect  did  I see, 

Than  a free-school  and  curacy ; 

The  country  tradesmen’s  sons  to  teach  ; 
In  lonely  village-church  to  preach, 

With  the  proud  sneer  and  vulgar  taunt, 
Oft  thrown  at  learning  when  in  want : 
All  which  you’ll  think,  my  noble  friend, 
Did  not  to  ease  or  comfort  tend. 

But  now,  another  act  displays 
The  folly  of  my  former  days  : 

A new  scene  opens  of  my  life  ; 

For,  faith,  my  Lord,  I took  a wife.” 

MY  LORD. 

“ I should  have  thought  a married  mate 
Must  have  improv’d  your  lonely  state  ! 


322 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


That  a kind  look  and  winning  smile 
Would  serve  your  labours  to  beguile.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Love,  in  itself,  is  very  good, 

But,  ’tis  by  no  means,  solid  food  ; 

And,  ere  our  honey-moon  was  o’er, 

I found  we  wanted  something  more. 
This  was  the  cause  of  all  my  trouble  ; 
My  income  would  not  carry  double  : 
But,  led  away  from  Beason’s  plan 
By  Love,  that  torturer  of  mau, 

In  our  delirium  we  forgot 
What  is  life’s  unremitted  lot ; 

That  man  and  woman,  too,  are  born 
Beneath  each  rose  to  find  a thorn  ! 

We  thought,  as  other  fools  have  done, 
That  Hymen’s  laws  had  made  us  one  ; 
But  had  forgot  that  Nature,  true 
To  her  own  purpose,  made  us  two. 

There  were  two  mouths  that  daily  cried, 
At  mom  and  eve,  to  be  supplied : 
Though  by  one  vow  we  were  betroth’d, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  323 

There  were  two  bodies  to  be  cloth’d ; 

And,  to  improve  my  happiness, 

Dolly  is  very  fond  of  dress. 

My  head’s  content  with  one  hat  on  it, 

While  Dorothy  has  hat  and  bonnet : 

In  short,  there’s  no  day  passes  through, 

But  I and  my  dear  Doll  are  two. 

One  good  has  my  kind  fortune  sped  ; 

Dolly,  my  Lord,  has  never  bred. 

Thus,  though  we’re  always  two , you  see, 

We  haply  yet  have  ne’er  been  three . 

She  came  a beauty  to  my  arms  ; 

Her  only  dower  was  her  charms  : 

But  much  she  sav’d  me,  I must  own, 

By  never  bringing  brats  to  town.” 

MY  LORD. 

u Another  time,  my  rev’rend  guest, 

I hope  you  will  relate  the  rest : 

I truly  wish  the  whole  to  know, 

But  bus’ness  calls,  and  I must  go. 

I need  not,  sure,  repeat  my  words  : 

Command  whate’er  the  house  affords.” 

* Y 2 


324 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  Peer  thus  with  the  Doctor  parted, 
And  left  him  gay  and  easy  hearted  ; 

While  many  a pipe  his  thoughts  digest, 

Till  his  eyes  told  the  hour  of  rest. 

When  the  next  mom  and  breakfast  came, 
Said  Syntax,  “ I should  be  to  blame, 

If  I delay’d  to  tell  my  mind 
To  one  so  gen’rous,  and  so  kind, 

In  hopes  such  counsel  to  receive 
As  he  will  condescend  to  give. 

For  as  I on  my  bed  reclin’d, 

A sudden  thought  possess’d  my  mind, 
Which  may  produce,  as  I’ve  a notion, 

A North-West  passage  to  promotion. 

“ Loyal  and  true  I’ve  ever  been, 

And  much  of  this  same  world  I’ve  seen : 
Well  vers’d  in  the  historic  page 
Of  this  and  ev’ry  other  age, 

I could  employ  my  studious  hour 
For  those  who  hold  the  reins  of  power  ; 

And  sure  a well-tum’d  pamphlet  might 
Attention  from  the  court  invite ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  325 

By  which  I could,  in  nervous  prose, 

Unveil  the  ministerial  foes  ; 

And,  with  a common  skill  and  care, 

Praise  and  support  the  powers  that  are. 

I then  might  be  preferr’d  at  once  ; 

No  more  the  prey  of  any  dunce, 

Who  views  poor  authors  as  mere  drudges, 
And  ev’ry  doit  he  pays  them  grudges  ; 

Nor  cares  how  much  he  makes  them  feel, 

Just  as  a cook-maid  skins  an  eel. 

It  would  be  better  far  I trow 
Than  this  same  Paternoster  Bow  ; 

Where  the  poor  bees,  in  Learning’s  hive, 

Toil,  but  to  make  the  tradesmen  thrive— 

And  for  their  intellectual  honey, 

Get  but  a poor  return  in  money. 

It  would  be  cutting  matters  short, 

Could  I but  get  a friend  at  court : 

’Twould  be,  and  I repeat  the  notion, 

A North-West  passage  to  promotion.” 

MY  LORD. 

“ Patient,  my  learned  Doctor,  hear ; 

And  to  my  counsels  give  an  ear : 


326 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I long  have  known,  and  known  too  well, 

The  country  where  you  wish  to  dwelL 
Corruption,  fraud,  and  envy  wait 
At  the  proud  statesman’s  crowded  gate  ; 
There,  fawning  flatt’ry  wins  its  way  ; 

There,  the  base  passions  join  the  fray, 

Like  beasts  that  on  each  other  prey ; 

While  the  smile  hides  each  trait’rous  heart, 
And  interest  plays  a Proteus * part. 

You’ve  too  much  virtue,  my  good  friend, 
Your  talents  and  your  time  to  lend 
To  such  a power — for  such  an  end. 

Can  you  work  up  the  specious  lie, 

That  does  not  quite  the  truth  deny  ? 

Can  you  that  kind  of  truth  relate, 

On  which  you  may  prevaricate  ? 

Will  you  from  others  bear  to  seek 

What  you  must  think,  and  write,  and  speak  ? 

WTill  you,  to-day,  their  systems  borrow, 

* L’lngannare,  il  mentir,  la  fraude,  il  forto, 

Et  la  rapinadi  di  pieta  vestita ; 

Crescer  col  danno,  e precipzio  altrui, 

E far  a se  de  Valtrui  biasmo  more. 

Bon  le  virtue  di  quella  gente  infida. 

Pastor  Fido. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  327 

And  calmly  shake  them  off  to-morrow '? 

Will  you,  chameleon-like,  receive 
The  hue  a patron  wants  to  give  ? — 

You’ve  too  much  honest  pride  to  he 
A scribbler  to  the  Treasury ; 

Where  you  must  wait  the  lagging  hour, 

And  cringe  to  images  of  power  ; 

To  men  in  office,  upstart  elves, 

Who  think  of  little  but  themselves. 

“ When  long  a hackney’d  slave  you’ve  been, 
And  dash’d  and  div’d  through  thick  and  thin ; 
When  you  have  chang’d  each  purer  thought 
For  morals  which  in  courts  are  taught ; 

When  all  distinctions,  that  belong 
To  what  is  right  and  what  is  wrong, 

Have  of  your  reason  lost  their  hold, 

For  dribblets  of  a patron’s  gold  ; 

When  the  bold  logic,  fram’d  by  truth, 

Your  filial  boast  in  early  youth, 

Yields  to  the  vacillating  rule 
Of  Policy’s  complying  school ; — 

When  guile  and  cunning,  from  your  breast 
Have  driven  that  once-honour’d  guest, 


328 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


You  may  perhaps,  or  you  may  not, 

Be  set  aside,  unheard,  forgot ; 

Or  haply  find,  when  virtue’s  lost, 
Bepentance,  and  some  petty  post. 

This  will  not  do,  my  learned  friend  ; 
You  must  to  better  things  attend  : 

All  thoughts  of  Downing  Street  forego, 
And  stick  to  Paternoster  Bow. 

“ The  man  of  trade  you  cannot  t^ame, 
For  money  is  his  native  aim ; 

It  is  the  object  of  all  trade, 

To  make  as  much  as  can  be  made  : 
Bankers  and  Booksellers  alike, 

At  ev’ry  point  of  profit  strike  ; 

And  the  same  spirit  you  will  meet 
In  Mincing  Lane  or  Lombard  Street. 

’Tis  not  confin’d,  we  all  must  know, 

To  vulgar  tradesmen  in  the  Row. 

Success  depends  on  writing  well — 
Booksellers  bow,  when  volumes  sell. 

On  the  Exchange,  each  day  at  three, 
This  self-same  principle  you’ll  see 
Lead  thither  the  vast,  pressing  throng : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  329 

And  know,  dear  Sir,  or  right  or  wrong, 

’Tis  that  which  makes  Old  England  strong. 
Though  roguery’s  in  Vellum’s  shop, 

It  is,  my  friend,  the  nation’s  prop  : 

And  though  you  please,  good  Sir,  to  flout  it. 
Old  England  could  not  do  without  it. 

Without  it  she  might  be  as  good, 

But  half  as  great  she  never  would. 

I look  with  pleasure  to  the  fame 
That  now  awaits  your  learned  name  ; 

And  when  your  labours  are  well  paid, 

You’ll  be  the  eulogist  of  trade. 

“ Vellum  may  be  a purse-proud  cit, 

With  more  of  money  than  of  wit ; 

But  Vellum , my  good  Sir,  can  tell 
The  kind  of  book  that’s  made  to  sell. 

Indeed,  the  man  whose  pocket’s  full, 

However  empty  be  his  skull, 

Although  immeasurably  dull, 

Will  find,  ’midst  the  ill-judging  crowd, 

Far  greater  reason  to  be  proud, 

Than  he  whose  head  contains  a store 
Of  critic  skill,  and  learned  lore, 


330 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


If  to  his  wit  he  does  not  join 
The  blest  command  of  ready  coin. 

Write  and  get  rich,  nor  fear  the  taunts 
Of  booksellers  and  such  gallants  ; 

Vellum  has  no  more  sordid  tricks 
Than  those  who  deal  in  politics  ; 

But  till  your  various  learning’s  known, 

And  your  works  sell  throughout  the  town  ; 
Till,  having  settled  Fortune’s  spite, 

Your  name  shall  sanction  what  you  write, 
Let  Vellum  his  rewards  bestow, 

Nor  scoff  at  Paternoster  Row” 

SYNTAX. 

“ To  your  kind  words  I’ve  nought  to  say, 
But  thank  your  Lordship,  and  obey. 

And  now,  as  twenty  years  have  pass’d 
Since  I beheld  fair  London  last, 

I shall  employ  the  present  day 
In  strolling  calmly  to  survey 
What  changes  time  and  chance  have  made, 
What  wealth  has  done,  and  art  essay’d, 
What  taste  has,  in  its  fancies,  shown, 

To  give  new  splendour  to  the  town  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  331 

That  being  done,  I’ll  take  my  way 
To  Covent  Garden — to  the  play.55 

“ Then,”  said  his  Lordship,  “ when  we  meet, 
I shall  expect  a special  treat, 

To  hear  my  learned  friend  impart 
His  notions  of  dramatic  art.” 

The  Doctor  bow’d,  and  off  he  went, 

Upon  his  curious  progress  bent : 

He  pac’d  the  Parks— he  view’d  each  square, 
And  staring,  he  made  others  stare. 

At  length,  at  the  appointed  hour, 

He  hasten’d  to  the  playhouse  door, 

And  took  his  place  within  the  pit, 

Beside  a critic  and  a wit, 

As  wits  and  critics  now  are  known, 

Who  hash  up  nonsense  for  the  town  ; 

And,  in  the  daily  columns,  show 
How  small  the  sum  of  all  they  know. 

“ I think,”  said  Syntax,  looking  round, 

“ It  is  not  good,  this  vast  profound  : 

I see  no  well- wrought  columns  here  ; 


tour  of  doctor  syntax 

No  Attic  ornaments  appear  ; 
Nought  but  a washy,  wanton  waste 


Of  gaudy  tints  and  puny  taste  , 

Too  large  to  hear — too  long  to  see — - 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  333 

Full  of  unmeaning  symmetry. 

The  parts  all  answer  one  another  ; 

Each  pigeon-hole  reflects  its  brother  ; 

And  all,  alas  ! too  plainly  show 
How  easy  ’tis  to  form  a row  : 

But  where’s  the  grand,  the  striking  whole  ? 

A theatre  should  have  a soul.” 

“ Excuse  me,  Sir,”  the  Critic  said, 

“ These  theatres  are  all  a trade  : 

Their  owners  laugh  at  scrolls  and  friezes  ; 

’Tis  a full  house,  alone,  that  pleases  ; 

And  you  must  know,  it  is  the  plan 
To  stick  and  stuff  it  as  they  can  : 

Your  noble,  architect’ral  graces, 

Would  take  up  room,  and  fill  up  places.” 

“ This  may  be  true,  Sir,  to  the  letter ; 

But  genius  would  have  manag’d  better,” 
Syntax  replied  : — “ Nay,  I am  willing 
To  let  them  gain  the  utmost  shilling ; 

But  surely  talent  might  be  found, 

(The  natives,  too,  of  British  ground,) 


334 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Who  could  have  blended  Attic  merit 
With  this  proprietary  spirit.” 

Thus  as  he  spoke,  the  curtain  rose, 

And  forc’d  his  harangue  to  a close  : 

But  still,  as  they  the  drama  view’d, 

The  conversation  was  renew’d, 

And  lasted  till  the  whole  was  o’er  ; 

When,  as  they  pass’d  the  playhouse  door, 
The  Critic  said, — “ ’Twill  wound  my  heart 
If  you  and  I so  soon  must  part : 

Oh,  how  I long  to  crack  a bottle 
With  such  a friend  of  Aristotle  ! 

Now,  as  you  seem  to  know  him  well, 
Perhaps  his  residence  you’ll  tell.” 

“ Where  it  is  now  I do  not  know,” 

Syntax  replied  ; — “ and  I must  go  ; 

But  this  I can  most  boldly  say — 

You  scarce  will  meet  him  at  the  play.” 

When  fairly  got  into  the  street, 

“ Oh,”  thought  the  Doctor,  “ what  a treat 
For  my  good  Lord,  when  next  we  meet ! ” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  335 


CANTO  XXIY. 

OW  Syntaxes  he  tra veil’d 
back, 

Lolling  and  stretching  in 
a hack, 

Could  not  but  ponder  iu 
his  mind 

On  what  he  had  just  left 
behind. 

“ I’ve  seen  a play,”  he  mutt’ring  said ; 

“ ’Twas  Shakespeare’s — but  in  masquerade ! — 
I’ve  seen  a farce,  I scarce  know  what ; 

’Twas  only  fit  to  be  forgot. 

I’ve  seen  a critic,  and  have  heard 
The  string  of  nonsense  he  preferr’d. 

Heaven  bless  me  ! where  has  Learning  fled  ? 
Where  has  she  hid  her  sacred  head  ? 

Oh,  how  degraded  is  she  grown, 

To  spawn  such  boobies  on  the  town  ! 


336 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  sterling  gold  is  seen  no  more  ; 

In  vain  we  seek  the  genuine  ore  : 

Some  mixture  doth  its  worth  debase  ; 
Some  wire-drawn  nonsense  takes  its  place. 
How  few  consume  the  midnight  oil ! 

How  few  in  Learning’s  labour  toil ! 
Content,  as  they  incurious  stray 
Through  life’s  unprofitable  day, 

With  straws  that  on  the  surface  flow, 

Nor  look  for  pearls  that  live  below  : 

They  ne’er  the  hidden  depths  explore, 

But  gather  sea-weed  on  the  shore  ! 

There  was  a period,  when  the  stage 
Was  thought  to  dignify  the  age  ; 

When  learned  men  were  seen  to  sit 
Upon  the  benches  of  the  pit ; 

When,  to  his  art  and  nature  true, 
Garrick  his  various  pictures  drew  ; 

While  ev’ry  passion,  ev’ry  thought, 

He  to  perfection  fully  wrought ; 

By  Nature’s  self  supremely  taught, 

He  did  her  very  semblance  bear, 

And  look’d  as  she  herself  were  there. 
Whether  old  Lear’s  form  he  wore, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 

With  age  and  sorrow  cover’d  o’er ; 

Or  Borneo’s  am’rous  flame  possess’d, 

That  torture  of  the  human  breast ; 

Or  gay  Lothario’s  glowing  pride, 

In  conquest  o’er  his  rival’s  bride  ; 

Or  when,  with  fell  ambition  warm, 

In  Macbeth  or  in  Gloster’s  form, 

He  gave  each  passion  to  the  eye 
In  all  its  fine  variety, 

The  words  he  did  not  loudly  quote  ; 

But  acted  e’en  as  Shakespeare  wrote. 

“ Nor  was  he  less  (for  he  could  range 
In  ev’ry  wayward  busy  change 
Known  in  the  field  of  scenic  art — 

The  true  chameleon  of  the  heart) 

When  he  assum’d  the  merry  glee 
Of  laughter-loving  Comedy. 

“ In  Banger’s  tricks,  or  when  he  strove 
In  Benedict  to  hide  his  love ; 

When  he  in  Drugger’ s doublet  shone, 

Or  Bnite’s  rude  ribaldry  put  on  ; 

When  he  the  jealous  Kit  el  y play’d ; 


338 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


When  the  same  passion  he  essay’d 
In  Felix ; — with  what  truth  and  force 
He  urg’d  that  passion’s  diff’rent  course  ! 
Work’d  up  its  features  all  anew — 

But  still  he  was  to  Nature  true  ! 

Nay,  e’en  in  Farce  he  could  awake 
The  fun  that  made  the  galTries  shake  ; 
The  heart  he  cheated  of  its  woe, 

And  made  the  poignant  tear  to  flow ; 

Lit  up  a joy  in  ey’ry  eye, 

Or  drown’d  the  soul  in  agony. 

He  ever  was  to  Nature  true ; — 

By  no  false  arts  did  he  subdue 
Th’  attentive  mind,  the  list’ning  ear ; 

In  all  the  Drama’s  wide  career, 

He  ne’er  outstepp’d  th’  unerring  rule, 
Which  he  had  learn’d  in  Nature’s  school 
In  ev’ry  part  he  did  excel ; 

He  aim’d  at  all,  and  all  was  well. 

In  those  good  times  none  went  to  see 
The  mere  effects  of  scenery ; 

The  constant  laugh,  the  forc’d  grimace, 
The  vile  distortions  of  the  face ; 

In  those  good  times  none  went  to  see 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  339 

Pierots  and  Clowns  in  Comedy. 

Men  sought  perfection  to  discern, 

And  learned  critics  went  to  learn. 

%<  Shakespeare,  immortal  Bard  sublime  I 
Unmatch’d  within  the  realm  of  time ! 

He  did  not,  with  Promethean  aim, 

Attempt  to  steal  ethereal  flame ; 

Rather  to  him  the  thoughts  of  Heaven 
Were,  by  celestial  bounty,  given : 

He  read  profound,  in  ev’ry  page 
Of  Nature’s  volume,  ev’ry  age 
And  act  of  man ! Each  passion’s  course 
He  traces  with  resistless  force ; 

Nay,  with  a more  than  mortal  art, 

Gives  unknown  feelings  to  the  heart ; 

And  doth  the  yielding  fancy  bear, 

Just  as  his  magic  wills — and  where. 

“ His  page  still  lives,  and  sure  will  last 
Till  time  and  all  its  years  are  past. 

The  poet,  to  the  end  of  time, 

Breathes  in  his  works  and  lives  in  rhyme ; 
But,  when  the  actor  sinks  to  rest, 

And  the  turf  lies  upon  his  breast, 
z 2 


340 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


A poor  traditionary  fame 

Is  all  that’s  left  to  grace  his  name. 

The  Drama’s  children  strut  and  play, 

In  borrow’d  parts,  their  lives  away ; 

And  then  they  share  the  obvious  lot ; 
Smith  will,  like  Cibber , be  forgot ! 

Cibber , with  fascinating  art, 

Could  wake  the  pulses  of  the  heart ; 

But  her’s  is  an  expiring  name, 

And  darling  Smith’s  will  be  the  same. 

Of  Garrick’s  self  e’en  nought  remains ; 
His  art  and  him  one  grave  contains : 

In  others’  minds  to  make  him  live, 

Is  all  remembrance  now  can  give. 

All  we  can  say — alas ! how  vain ! 

We  ne’er  shall  see  his  like  again.” 

Just  as  this  critic-speech  was  o’er, 

The  coach  stopp’d  at  his  Lordship’s  door 
But  my  good  Lord  was  gone  to  bed ; 

So  Syntax  to  his  chamber  sped, 

Where,  with  his  pipe,  and  o’er  his  bottle. 
He  chew’d  the  cud  of  Aristotle, 

Till,  stretch’d  upon  a bed  of  down, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  341 

Sleep  did  his  head  with  poppies  crown ; 

And  well  he  slept,  until  a voice 
Desir’d  to  know  if  ’twere  his  choice 
Still  to  sleep  on  ? And  then  it  stated — 

His  Lordship  and  the  breakfast  waited. 

“ Well,”  said  my  Lord,  when  he  appear’d, 

“ I hope  the  play  your  spirits  cheer’d ; 
Falstaff,  the  morning  critics  tell, 

Was  never  surely  play’d  so  well.” 

“ These  critics,”  Syntax  smiling  said, 

“ Are  wretched  bunglers  at  their  trade  : 

One  sat  beside  me  in  the  pit, 

No  more  a critic  than  a wit ! 

Between  the  acts  we  both  exprest 
Or  what  was  worst,  or  what  was  best ; 

And  whil’d  those  intervals  away 
In  changing  thoughts  upon  the  play  ; 

And,  though  both  form’d  to  disagree, 

Nought  pass’d  but  perfect  courtesy. 

Perhaps  it  may  your  fancy  suit 
To  hear  our  classical  dispute  ; 

I think,  my  Lord,  ’twould  prove  a treat, 
Should  you  allow  me  to  repeat 


342 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


All  that  this  criticising  sage 
Knew  of  the  humours  of  the  stage  : 

For,  as  to  what  should  form  a play ; 

How  actors  should  their  parts  convey ; 
What  are  the  Drama’s  genuine  laws, 

The  source  from  whence  true  Genius  draws 
Such  scenes,  as  when  to  Nature  shown, 

She  loud  exclaims — ‘ They  are  my  own  ! 
He  knew  no  more,  it  will  appear, 

Than  the  tea-urn  that’s  boiling  here ; 

Like  that  he  did  no  more  than  bubble, 
And  without  any  toil  or  trouble  ; 

They  felt  the  trouble  who  sat  near  him  ; 
For,  sure  enough,  ’twas  toil  to  hear  him. 
After  some  gen’ral  trifling  chat 
Of  the  new  playhouse,  and  all  that, 

The  scenes  that  pass’d  before  our  eyes 
Produc’d  these  questions  and  replies  : 

In  short,  I ’ll  state  our  quid  pro  quos 
J ust  in  the  order  they  arose.” 

CRITIC. 

u Oh,  what  a Falstaff! — Oh,  how  fine  ! 

Oh,  ’tis  great  acting — ’tis  divine  ! ” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


SYNTAX. 

“ His  acting’s  great — that  I can  tell  ye ; 
For  all  the  acting’s  in  his  belly.” 

CRITIC. 

“ But,  with  due  def’rence  to  your  joke, 
A truer  word  I never  spoke 
Than  when  I say — you’ve  never  been 
The  witness  of  a finer  scene. 

Th’  admir’d  actor  whom  you  see 
Plays  the  fat  Knight  most  charmingly  : 
’Tis  in  this  part  he  doth  excel ; 

Quin  never  play’d  it  half  so  well.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ You  ne’er  saw  Quin  the  stage  adorn : 
He  acted  ere  your  sire  was  born ; 

And  critics,  Sir,  who  liv’d  before  ye, 
Would  have  disclos’d  a different  story. 
This  play  I’ve  better  acted  seen 
In  country  towns  where  I have  been. 

I do  not  hesitate  to  say — 

I’d  rather  read  this  very  play 
By  my  own  parlour  fire-side, 


344 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


With  my  poor  judgment  for  my  guide, 
Than  see  the  actors  of  this  stage, 

Who  make  me  gape  at  Shakespeare’s  page. 
When  I read  Falstaff  to  myself, 

I laugh  like  any  merry  elf ; 

While  my  mind  feels  a cheering  glow 
That  Shakespeare  only  can  bestow. 

The  swagg’ring  words  in  his  defence, 
Which  scarce  are  wit,  and  yet  are  sense  ; 
The  ribald  jest — the  quick  conceit — 

The  boast  of  many  a braggart  feat  ; 

The  half-grave  questions  and  replies, 

In  his  high- wrought  soliloquies  ; 

The  dubious  thought — the  pleasant  prate, 
Which  give  no  time  to  love  or  hate, 

In  such  successon  do  they  flow, 

From  no  to  yea — from  yea  to  no, 

Have  not  been  to  my  mind  convey’d 
By  this  pretender  to  his  trade. 

The  smile  sarcastic,  and  the  leer 
That  tells  the  laughing  mock’ry  near  ; 

The  warning  look,  that,  ere  ’tis  spoke, 
Aptly  forebodes  the  coming  joke  ; 

The  air  so  solemn,  yet  so  sly, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  345 

Shap’d  to  conceal  the  ready  lie  ; 

The  eyes,  with  some  shrewd  meaning  bright, 

I surely  have  not  seen  to-night. 

Again,  I must  beg  leave  to  tell  ye, 

’Tis  nought  of  Falstaff  but  his  belly.” 

CRITIC. 

“ All  this  is  fine — and  may  be  true  ; 

But  with  such  truths  I’ve  nought  to  do. 

I’m  sure,  Sir,  I shall  say  aright, 

When  I report  the  great  delight 
Th’  enraptur’d  audience  feel  to-night 
It  is,  indeed,  with  no  small  sorrow, 

I cannot  your  opinions  borrow 
To  fill  the  columns  of  to-morrow. 

My  light  critique  will  be  preferr’d  ; 

The  public  always  take  my  word  ; 

Nay,  the  loud  plaudits  heard  around 
Must  all  your  far-fetch’d  thoughts  confound  : 

I truly  wonder  when  I see 
You  do  not  laugh  as  well  as  me.” 

SYNTAX. 

u My  muscles  other  ways  are  drawn  : 

I cannot  laugh,  Sir,  while  I yawn.” 


346 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


CRITIC. 

“ But  you  will  own  the  scenes  are  fine.” 

SYNTAX. 

“ Whate’er  the  acting,  they’re  divine, 

And  fit  for  any  pantomime. 

Of  this  it  is  that  I complain  ; 

These  are  the  tricks  which  I disdain  : 

The  painter’s  art  the  play  commends  ; 

On  gaudy  show  success  depends  : 

The  clothes  are  made  in  just  design  ; 

They  are  well  character’d  and  fine. 

The  actors  now,  I think, — Heav’n  bless  ’em  ! — 
Must  learn  their  art  from  those  who  dress  ’em ; 
But  give  me  actors,  give  me  plays, 

On  which  I could  with  rapture  gaze, 

Tho’  coats  and  scenes  were  made  of  baize : 

For,  if  the  scene  were  highly  wrought ; 

If  players  acted  as  they  ought ; 

You  would  not  then  be  pleas’d  to  see 
This  heavy  mass  of  frippery. 

Hear  Horace,  Sir,  who  wrote  of  plays 
In  ancient  Borne’s  Augustan  days  : — 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  347 

c Tanto  cum  strepitu  ludi  spectantur , et  artes , 
Diviticeque  peregrines  : quibus  oblitus  actor 
Cum  stetit  in  scena , concurrit  dextera  Icevce. 

Dixit  adhuc  aliquid  ? nil  sane.  Quid placit  ergo? 
Lana  Tarentino  violas  imitata  veneno.’  ” 

CRITIC. 

“ Your  pardon,  Sir,  but  all  around  me 
There  are  such  noises,  they  confound  me  ; 

And,  though  I full  attention  paid, 

I scarcely  know  a word  you  said. 

To  say  the  truth,  I must  acknowledge 
’Tis  long  since  I have  quitted  college  : 

Virgil  and  Horace  are  my  friends, 

I have  them  at  my  finger’s  ends  ; 

But  Grecian  lore,  I blush  to  own, 

Is  wholly  to  my  mind  unknown. 

I therefore  must  your  meaning  seek  : 

Oblige  me,  Sir,  translate  your  Greek. 

But  see,  the  farce  is  now  begun, 

And  you  must  listen  to  the  fun, 

It  sure  has  robb’d  you  of  your  bile  ; 

For  now,  methinks,  you  deign  to  smile.” 


348 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


SYNTAX. 

“ The  thing  is  droll,  and  aptly  bent 
To  raise  a^ulgar  merriment : 

But  Merry-Andrews,  seen  as  such, 

Have  often  made  me  laugh  as  much. 

An  actor  does  but  play  the  fool 
When  he  forsakes  old  Shakespeare’s  rule, 
And  lets  his  own  foul  nonsense  out, 

To  please  th’  ill-judging  rabble  rout  : 

But  when  he  swears , to  furnish  laughter, 

The  beadle’s  whip  should  follow  after. 
There’s  Terence , Sir,  and  then  there’s  Plautus 
They’ve  both  a better  lesson  taught  us.” 

CRITIC. 

“ Terence , I know,  he  wrote  in  Latin, 

J ust  as  a weaver  makes  his  satin  ; 

He  well  deserv’d  the  comic  bays  : 

For  Westminster  he  wrote  his  plays  ; 

And  Plautus  was  a fellow  famous, 

He  wrote  a farce  called  Ignoramus; 

Where  Lawyers,  by  profession  bold, 

In  Latin  and  in  English  scold.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  349 

“ At  length,  my  Lord,  the  parley  ended  : 
Which,  to  amuse,  cannot  be  mended. 

You  well  may  laugh  so  loud,  but  I 
Feel  myself  more  dispos’d  to  cry, 

When  thus  I see  what  asses  sit 
In  judgment  upon  works  of  wit. 

“ I own,  my  Lord,  I love  a play — 

When  some  performer’s  turn’d  away, 

By  Green-Room  tyrants,  from  the  boards 
Of  London  stage,  our  town  affords 
To  tempt  or  her  or  him  to  stay, 

For  a few  nights,  upon  their  way  ; 

Then  Doll  and  I are  seen  to  sit 
Conspicuous  in  our  country  pit.” 

Thus  as  he  spoke,  with  frequent  bows, 

And  fifty  whens,  and  wheres,  and  hows, 
Vdlum  appear'd,  with  solemn  look, 

To  talk  about  the  Doctor’s  book. 

He  said,  “ ’ Twas  true,  a learned  friend 
The  manuscript  did  much  commend ; 

He  thinks  it  is  a work  of  merit, 

Written  with  learning,  taste,  and  spirit ; 


350 


’Tis  to  the  humour  of  our  age, 

And.  has  tout  Lrordship’s  patronage  ; 
I therefore  wish  the  work  to  buy, 


tour  of  doctor  syntax 

The  sketches,  too,  if  he  don’t  err, 
Possess  appropriate  character ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  351 

And  deal  with  liberality. 

’Tis  true  that  paper’s  very  dear, 

And  workmen’s  wages  most  severe  : 

The  volume’s  heavy,  and  demands 
Th’  engraver’s  with  the  printer’s  hands  : 
Besides,  there  is  a risk  to  run ; 

Before  the  press  its  work  has  done, 

New  taxes  may,  perhaps,  be  laid 
On  some  prime  article  of  trade, 

And  then  the  price  will  be  so  high  ; — 

The  persons  are  but  few  who  buy 
Books  of  so  very  costly  kind  ; 

But  still  the  work  is  to  my  mind : 

I ’ll  try  my  luck,  and  will  be  bound 
To  give,  my  Lord,  three  hundred  pound.” 

After  some  little  chat  on  trade, 

The  bargain  was  completely  made — 

The  work  transferr’d,  the  money  paid. 

“ Tho’,”  said  my  Lord,  “ I think  your  gains 
By  no  means  equal  to  your  pains  : 

(For  Vellum  will  a bargain  drive 
As  well  as  any  man  alive  ;) 


352  TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 

The  work  must  give  my  friend  a name, 
And  stamp  his  literary  fame  ; 

’Twill  Paternoster  Bow  command, 

And  keep  old  Vellum  cap-in-hand  ; 

And  when  a name  is  up,  ’tis  said, 

The  owner  may  lay  snug  in  bed. 

Write  on — the  learned  track  pursue — 
And  booksellers  shall  cringe  to  you.” 

Much  pass’d  upon  his  Lordship’s  part, 
Which  show’d  the  goodness  of  his  heart : 
While  Syntax  made  his  full  replies, 

Not  with  his  tongue — but  with  his  eyes. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  353 


CANTO  XXV. 

Y Lord  retir’d  : the 
Doctor  too, 

As  he  had  nothing 
else  to  do, 

Thought  he  would  take 
a peep  and  see 
His  noble  Patron’s 
library. 

So  down  he  sat,  without  a care, 

In  a well-stuff’d  morocco  chair, 

And  seiz’d  a book ; but  Morpheus  shed 
The  poppies  o’er  his  rev’rend  head  ; 

While  Fancy  would  not  be  behind, 

So  play’d  her  tricks  within  his  mind, 

And  furnish’d  a most  busy  dream, 

Which  Syntax  made  his  pleasant  theme, 
Soon  as  he  met  my  Lord  to  dine, 

Or  rather,  while  they  took  their  wine. 

A A 


334 


TO  [JR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


THE  DREAM. 

“ That  I was  in  the  Strand  I dream’d, 
And  o’er  my  head  methought  there  seem’d 
A flight  of  volumes  in  the  air, 

In  various  bindings  gilt  and  fair  : 

Th’  unfolded  leaves,  expos’d  to  view, 

Serv’d  them  as  wings  on  which  they  flew, 
Through  the  mid  air  they  pass’d  along, 

In  stately  flight,  a num’rous  throng  : 

And  from  each  book  a label  fell, 

Form’d  ev’ry  author’s  name  to  tell ! 

Nor  was  it  long  before  I saw, 

With  a fond,  reverential  awe, 

The  celebrated  bards  and  sages 
Which  grac’d  the  Greek  and  Roman  ages, 
All  headed  by  a solemn  fowl, 

Which  bore  the  semblance  of  an  owl. 

’Twas  Pallas’  bird,  who  led  them  straight 
Through  Temple-Bar’s  expanded  gate. 

Year  Books,  Reports,  and  sage  grave  Entries, 
At  either  Temple-gate  stood  sentries  : 

While  Yiner  his  Abridgment  shows 
In  sixty  well-arm’ d Folios. 


Page  354. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  355 

The  Lamb,  it  baa’d,  the  Horse,  it  neigh’d, 

In  rev’rence  of  the  cavalcade. 

Near  Clifford’s-Inn  appear’d  to  stand 
Of  Capiases  an  ugly  band  ; 

For  when  their  parchment  flags  appear’d, 
Instant  the  crowded  street  was  clear’d, 

And  the  procession  pass’d  along, 

Untroubled  by  a pressing  throng. 

St.  Dunstan’s  savages  were  mute, 

But  still  they  gave  their  best  salute  ; 
Disdaining  eloquence  and  rhymes, 

They  woke  their  bells  to  speak  in  chimes. 
Erskine’s  fam’d  pamphlet  cap-a-pie, 

With  many  an  J,  and  many  a Me , 

Issued  from  Serjeants’-Inn,  and  made 
A speech  to  grace  the  grand  parade. 

The  Stationers  came  forth  to  meet 
The  stranger  forms  in  Ludgate- street ; 

Each  one,  upon  his  brawny  back, 

Bearing  a large  sheet  Almanack. 

For  a short  time,  the  learned  train 
Stopp’d  before  Ave-Mary-Lane, 

That  Galen  might  just  view  the  College 
The  seat  of  medicinal  knowledge. 

A A 2 


356 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Nor  did  they  fail  awhile  to  tarry 
Before  St.  Paul’s  learn’ d Seminary, 
Where  Lilly's  Grammar  did  rehearse 
Propria  quce  maribus  in  verse. 

At  Cheapside-end  there  seem’d  to  stand 
A pageant,  rather  huge  than  grand  ; 
Beam  upon  ream  of  ’quire  stock 
Appear’d,  like  some  vast,  massive  rock  : 
On  its  firm  base  a figure  stood, 

A composite  of  brass  and  wood  : 

The  months  and  weeks  around  it  stand, 
With  each  a number  in  its  hand 
Of  Bibles,  Hist’ries,  and  Keviews, 

And  Magazines  from  ev’ry  Muse, 

With  coverlids  of  various  hue, 

Pea-green  and  red,  and  brown  and  blue. 
The  shape  was  clad  in  livery-gcwn  ; 

The  face  had  neither  smile  nor  frown, 
While  it  held  out  a monstrous  paunch, 
As  fat  with  many  a ham  and  haunch. 
Two  Printer’s  Devils  o’er  his  head 
A crimson  canvas  widely  spread, 
Whereon  was  writ  in  gilded  show — 
i Genius  of  Paternoster-Row.’ 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  357 

The  mighty  Giants  of  Guildhall, 

Urg’d  by  a sympathetic  call, 

No  sooner  heard  the  clock  strike  One , 

Than  from  their  stations  they  came  down, 
And  in  Cheapside  they  took  their  stand, 

In  honour  of  the  classic  band  ; 

But  when  they  heard  the  clock  strike  Two , 
March’d  back,  as  they  were  wont  to  do. 

Now,  as  they  came  near  the  Old- Jewry, 

Like  Dulness  work’d  into  a Fury, 

A vulgar  shape  appear’d,  who  flew 
On  pinions  mark’d  with  One  and  Two  ; 

And  other  items,  which  denote 
That  fourpence  is  well  worth  a groat. 

It  seem’d  to  lead  a num’rous  train, 

Who  render’d  further  passage  vain. 

Straight  he  came  forward  to  produce 
A Blank-Sheet  as  a flag  of  truce. 

Near  him  two  flutt’ring  Pamphlets  bore 
Standards,  with  figures  cover’d  o’er  ; 

A gilt  Pence-table  grac’d  the  one, 

The  Price  of  Stocks  on  t’other  shone. 

A picquet  guard  of  Valuations 
And  Int’rest  Tables  took  their  stations 


358 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Around  their  leader,  who  drew  nigh, 

To  make  his  bold  soliloquy  ; 

But  ere  he  speaks,  my  proper  course  is 
Just  to  describe  the  City  Forces. 

“ Bill-Books  and  Cash-Books  form’d  the  vai 
An  active  and  a num’rous  clan  : 

The  Journals  follow’d  them,  whose  skill 
Is  exercis’d  in  daily  drill : 

On  either  side  appear’d  to  range 
Unpaid  Accounts,  Bills  of  Exchange, 

And  Files  of  Banker's  Checks : these  three 
Manoeuvr’d  as  Light  Infantry  ; 

While  many  a stationary  book 
Its  regular  position  took  ; 

And  Quires  of  Blotting-paper  stood 
To  suck  up  any  flow  of  blood. 

The  Ledgers  the  main  body  form, 

Arm’d  to  resist  the  coming  storm  ; 

Whose  pond’rous  shapes  could  boldly  show 
A steady  phalanx  to  the  foe. 

“ Discord  appear’d,  with  base  intent, 

The  hostile  spirit  to  foment : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  359 

Not  Discord  that  precedes  the  car 
Of  Mars  whene’er  he  goes  to  war  ; 

But  of  a different  rank  and  nation, 

Known  by  the  name  of  Litigation ; 

Born  on  some  foul  Attorney’s  desk  ; 

Bred  up  to  harass  and  perplex  : 

Whose  appetite  is  for  dispute, 

And  has  no  wish  but  for  a suit. 

She  rose  upon  a gander’s  wing, 

And  round  about  began  to  fling 
Pleas,  Declarations,  and  each  bit 
Of  parchment  that  could  form  a writ. 

“ The  Newspapers,  with  pen  in  hand, 

In  the  balconies  took  their  stand  ; 

Waiting,  with  that  impartial  spirit, 

Which  all  well  know  they  all  inherit, 

To  make  the  hurry  of  the  battle 
Through  all  the  next  day’s  columns  rattle  ; 
And,  with  one  conscience,  to  prepare 
The  hist’ry  of  this  paper  war. 

“ The  Herald  now  the  silence  broke, 

’Twas  mighty  Cocker’s  self  that  spoke.; 


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TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  thus  to  Pallas’  bird  address’d 
The  solemn  purpose  of  his  breast : 

“ ‘ I state  my  claim  to  ask  and  know 
From  whence  you  come  and  where  you  go, 
And  by  what  license  you  appear 
With  all  your  foreign  Pagans  here  ? 

Come  you  with  all  this  cavalcade 
T’  insult  the  vehicles  of  trade, 

And  our  dear,  home-bred  rights  invade  ? 

A mighty  force  awaits  you  here, 

To  check  and  punish  your  career  ; 

And  I am  order’d  by  my  masters, 

Who  fear  disturbance  and  disasters, 

To  bid  you  quickly  turn  about, 

From  London  streets  to  take  your  rout, 

Or  we  shall  quickly  turn  you  out. 

My  name  is  Cocker,  which  is  known 
In  ev’ry  counting-house  in  town  : 

Nay,  such  my  use  and  reputation,  ♦ 

I am  respected  through  the  nation. 

Yes,  I’m  the  father,  I who  speak, 

Of  mercantile  arithmetic ; 

Source  of  a race  that  far  outvies 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  361 

Your  Greek  and  Latin  progenies  : 

And  now  I hope  that  in  a crack 
You’ll  send  an  humble  answer  back. 

Or  else  expect  a fierce  attack. 

I ’ll  count  twice  two,  and  then  add  four, 

That  time  I’ll  give,  but  give  no  more. 

One,  two,  three,  four,  five,  six,  seven,  eight. — 
I ’ve  done,  and  will  no  longer  wait.’ 

“ The  bird  of  Pallas,  who  could  speak 
In  English  or  in  Attic  Greek, 

As  suited  best,  did  not  prolong 
His  answer  in  the  vulgar  tongue  : — 

“ 1 ’Twas  a petition,  duly  made 
By  certain  of  your  sons  of  trade, 

To  beg  my  mistress  would  permit 
That  they  should  buy  a little  wit ; 

And  here  import,  though  in  defiance 
Of  common  rules,  a little  science. 

I ask  not,  if  ’twas  their  intent 
To  gain  a name — or  ten  per  cent. ; 

Whether  ’tis  wisdom  or  misdoing  ; 

Whether  ’twill  prove  their  good  or  ruin, 


362 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Or  the  result  of  civic  sense, 

Or  a shrewd,  mercantile  pretence  ; 
Whether  ’tis  interest  or  pride 
That  turns  them  from  old  rules  aside  ; 
That  urges  them  to  tax  their  trade, 

For  off  rings  to  th’  immortal  maid  : 

These  self-same  matters,  to  be  free, 

Are,  Mister  Cocker , nought  to  me. 

’Tis  by  Minerva’s  high  command, 

That  I conduct  this  classic  band  ; 

’Tis  she  commands,  and  we  obey  ; 

Nor  shall  you  stop  us  on  the  way  : 
Whether  it  does  or  does  not  suit 
Your  pleasure,  to  the  Institute 
We’ll  go,  you  calculating  brute  ! 

Say,  will  your  low-born  volumes  dare 
With  these  brave  vet’rans  to  compare  ? 
What’s  all  this  bustle — all  this  fuss  ? 
Think  you  they  can  contend  with  us  ? 
They  who  are  slaves,  so  base  and  willing, 
Of  any  pound,  and  pence,  and  shilling. 

As  the  pen  gives  they’re  forc’d  to  drink 
The  venal  dips  of  any  ink  ; 

And  when  they’re  filled,  their  lives  expire, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  363 

Consign’d  to  light  a kitchen  fire  ; 

Or  sent  away  to  such  vile  use 
As  chandlers  or  as  hucksters  choose  : 

If  they  oppose  our  stated  way, 

We’ll  sweep  them  from  the  face  of  day, 

“ At  the  same  time  we  wish  for  peace, 

And  that  your  saucy  threats  may  cease. 

We  do  not  mean  to  mock  the  City 
With  any  hope  of  being  witty : 

We  do  not  bring  our  learned  powers 
To  vex  its  speculating  hours  ; 

Or  with  poetic  visions  cross 
Your  schemes  of  profit  and  of  loss. 

We  did  not  first  suggest  the  deed, 

To  bring  you  books  you  cannot  read. 

Meetings  were  form’d  and  speeches  made, 

And  all  by  weighty  men  of  trade, 

To  frame  the  unforeseen  request ; 

And  surely  we  have  done  our  best, 

When  we  each  classic  did  provide, 

With  a translation  by  its  side. 

Dryden  is  ready  to  rehearse 

All  Virgil’s  works  in  English  verse  ; 


364 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  Grecian  Homer  rests  his  hope 
Of  being  understood  by  Pope. 

Leland  will  give  you,  if  ye  please, 

The  speeches  of  Demosthenes  ; 

While  Northern  Gvihrie  will  bestow 
The  eloquence  of  Cicero. 

To  Thomas  Styles  and  John  a Nolces 
Carr  will  repeat  old  Durian's  jokes  ; 

While  Juvenal's  sharp  satire  shines 
In  William  Giffard' s rival  lines. 

Col  man  and  Thornton  will  convey 
Eight  notions  of  a Latin  play. 

Whate’er  the  ancient  critics  wrote, 

You  now  may  in  plain  English  quote, 

And  drink  Pye's  health,  when  o’er  the  bottle, 
For  Anglicising  Aristotle; 

Nay,  all  the  ancient  bards  have  sung, 

You  dow  may  sing  in  vulgar  tongue  ! 

What  could  we  more  ? — so  cease  your  riot, 
And  let  us  pass  along  in  quiet. 

Dismiss  your  counting-house  parade  ; 

Send  off  these  cumbrous  tomes  of  trade  : 
Back  to  their  counters  let  them  roam, 

And  sip  their  ink,  and  stay  at  home  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  FICTURESQUE.  365 

Nor  e’er  again  their  threats  oppose 
To  Grecian  and  to  Eoman  foes.’ 

“ COCKER. 

“ 1 Fools  may  be  found,  I do  not  doubt  it, 
Within  this  City  as  without  it : 

This  truth,  indeed,  is  very  clear, 

For  they  were  fools  who  brought  you  here. 

I pray  thee  tell  me  what  has  wit 
To  do  with  any  plodding  cit ; 

Of  wit  we  know  not  what  is  meant, 

Unless  ’tis  found  in  cent,  per  cent. 

Learning,  a drug  has  always  been  ; 

No  warehouseman  will  take  it  in  : 

Should  practis’d  mercers  quit  their  satin, 

To  look  at  Greek  and  long  for  Latin  ? 

Should  the  pert,  upstart,  merchant’s  boy 
Behold  the  Tower,  and  think  of  Troy  ? 

Or  should  a Democratic  hatter  > 

’Bout  old  republics  make  a clatter  ? 

Should  city  Praters  leave  their  tools, 

To  talk  by  Ciceronian  rules  ; 

And  at  our  meetings  in  Guildhall 


366 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Puzzle  the  mob  with  classic  brawl  ? 

No,  to  such  things  they’ve  no  pretence  ; 

No — let  them  stick  to  common  sense  : 

You  may  your  ancient  bards  rehearse, 

But  there’s  no  common-sense  in  verse  ; 

Not  all  the  classics  at  your  tail 
Would  weigh  an  ounce  in  reason’s  scale. 

I treat  the  name  of  Home  with  scorn  ; 

Give  me  the  commerce  of  Leghorn. 

Prom  Italy’s  prolific  shore 

The  wond’rous  science  was  brought  o’er, 

The  bright  invention  which  convey’d 
Such  vast  facilities  to  trade  : 

The  double  entry  far  outvies 
All  pictur’d,  sculptur’d  fantasies  ; 

And  sure  I am,  his  honour’d  name 
Deserves  a brighter  wreath  of  Fame, 

To  whose  keen  mind  the  scheme  occurr’d, 
Than  e’er  was  won  by  conqu’ror’s  sword. 
What  did  the  Greeks,  pray,  know  of  trade  ? 
Ulysses,  as  I’ve  heard  it  said, 

Was  full  ten  months  oblig’d  to  roam, 

Before  he  brought  his  cargo  home  : 

A voyage  in  that  self-same  sea, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  367 

Our  coasting  brigs  would  make  in  three. 

The  Institution  was  display’d 
As  a mere  trump’ry  trick  of  trade, 

Deck’d  out,  ’tis  true,  with  great  parade  ; 
While  you  are  coming  as  a bribe, 

To  make  our  purse-proud  cits  subscribe 
And  aid  the  primary  intent 
Of  dividends  of  ten  jper  cent 
We  have  our  pedant  tradesmen  too, 

Who  talk  as  if  they  something  knew, 

And  learning’s  cud  pretend  to  chew  : 

Who  get  cramp  words,  and  court  the  Muse 
In  magazines  and  in  reviews. 

Yes,  we  have  those,  whose  priggish  rage  is 
Not  to  read  books — but  title-pages  ; 

Who  spare  no  cost  in  drink  and  meat, 

To  furnish  out  a tempting  treat, 

That  may  attract  an  Attic  train 
To  Mincing  or  to  Philpot  Lane  ; 

Who  snatch  the  feast,  and  go  away, 

To  mock  the  patron  of  the  day. 

There  are  who  strive  to  have  it  thought, 

That  they  have  minds  with  learning  fraught  * 
Though,  if  they  have  so  small  discerning, 


368 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


To  interrupt  their  trade  with  learning ; 
The  day  will  come  when  they’ll  be  found 
With  certain  shillings  in  the  found. 

But,  to  be  brief — consult  your  fame, 

And  go  back  gravely,  as  you  came  ; 

Or  we  shall  send  you  somewhat  faster, 
Nor  for  your  wounds  afford  a plaister. 
Look  at  that  form  which  soars  in  air, 
And  shines  like  a portentous  star ; 

It  is  th’  armorial  symbol  bright 
Of  a renown’d,  commercial  knight, 

Who  sought  not  a superior  fame 
Than  doth  befit  a merchant’s  name. 

See  how  his  ensign  is  unfurl’d 
O’er  the  emporium  of  the  world, 

And  does  with  threat’ning  aspect  view 
Your  owlish  worship  and  your  crew  ; 
While  in  its  motions  we  descry 
The  sure  presage  of  victory. 

Yes,  on  success  I calculate, 

As  sure  as  four  and  four  make  eight. 
Thus  I have  clearly  stated  the  amount, 
Errors  excepted,  of  my  just  account.” 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  369 


“THE  OWL. 

“ 6 Good  Mister  Cocker , I have  heard 
All  that  your  wisdom  has  preferr’d  ; 

And  I entreat  you  turn  your  head, 

In  which  such  numbers  have  been  bred, 
And  see  a certain  wind  prevail, 

To  make  your  grasshopper  turn  tail ; 
From  which  my  wise  soothsayer  draws 
An  omen  fatal  to  your  cause  ; 

And  you  may  hear  his  tongue  proclaim, 
i Your  boobies  will  all  do  the  same.’ 

But  talking  is  of  little  use — 

Therefore  at  once  I break  the  truce.’ 

“ As  critics  now  when  called  to  duel, 
Disdainful  of  the  common  fuel, 

No  more  with  shot  or  bullet  vapour, 

But  wound  with  ink,  and  kill  with  paper 
Both  sides  for  conflict  dire  prepare  ; 

And  thus  commenc’d  the  threaten’d  war 

“ Euclid  at  Master  Cocker  flew, 

Whom  by  one  stroke  he  overthrew  ; 

Then  with  a knotty  problem  bound  him, 

B B 


370 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  left  him  struggling  where  he  found  him. 
Cotsar , with  all  his  Latins,  pounc’d 
On  the  light  parties,  whom  they  trounc’d, 
And  soon  a dreadful  havoc  made 
Of  bills  that  never  would  be  paid  ; 

While  Banker’s  Checks  made  quick  retreat, 
And  huddled  into  Lombard  Street. 

With  equal  force  the  Greeks  attack, 

And  drive  the  heavy  legions  back  : 

Ledgers  and  Journals  lay  all  scatter’d  ; 
Bill-Books  and  Cash-Books  were  bespatter’d  : 
Short  was  the  contest ; struck  with  dread, 
Confus’d,  the  City  forces  fled. 

For  aid  on  Stationers  they  call, 

But  they  were  busy  at  their  Hall ; 

And  this  same  Hall  their  trade-craft  found 
To  be  a sort  of  neutral  ground  ; 

As  they  conceiv’d  the  havoc  made 
Might  serve  the  paper-making  trade  : 

To  side  with  either  they  were  loth, 

In  hopes  to  profit  from  them  both. 

u The  Postman  now  his  clarion  blew  ; 

His  blasts  were  vain — they  would  not  do  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  371 

The  Letter-Books  disorder’d  flew  ; 

While  Pindar  from  Bow-steeple  clock 
Look’d  down,  and,  as  he  viewed  the  shock, 
Chanted,  nor  did  he  chant  in  vain, 

A loud  and  animating  strain. 

Forth  from  the  Bank  a troop  was  sent 
Of  threes  and  fours  and  fives  per  cent. ; 

But  they  ran  off,  nor  struck  a blow  ; 

For  Stocks  that  day  were  very  low. 

The  Policies  remain’d  secure, 

Waiting  for  arms  of  signature  ; 

For  what  brave  spirit  e’er  would  fight  ’em, 
When  nobody  would  underwrite  ’em. 

“ And  now  these  doughty  cits  were  beat, 
Down  ev’ry  lane,  up  ev’ry  street, 

But  met  to  form  each  broken  rank, 

Before  the  portals  of  the  Bank  : 

There  they  a solemn  council  hold, 

Whether,  by  added  strength  grown  bold, 

To  a new  contest  they  should  come, 

Or  sneak  away  disbanded  home. 

u Thus  the  old  Classics  having  beat 
The  vulgar  foe,  sought  Coleman  Street ; 
b b 2 


372 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


But  as  they  pass’d,  a numerous  host 
At  Coopers'  Hall , had  taken  post. 

Two  blue-coat  urchins  play’d  the  fife, 
Which  call’d  them  to  the  martial  strife  ; 
When,  ’stead  of  pointed  darts  and  lances, 
They  pelted  the  Antiques  with  Chances : 
But  Fortune,  who  is  ever  blind, 

Turn’d  short  and  left  her  bands  behind  ; 
Their  leader  lost,  away  they  steal, 

And  hide  their  numbers  in  the  Wheel. 

" At  length,  the  Classic  Sages  greet 
Their  Parthenonian  retreat : 

But  while  the  echoing  walls  around 
With  Io  P deans  loud  resound, 

Again  the  vengeful  foes  appear’d  ; 

Again  their  angry  standards  rear’d. 

* Must  we  once  more,’  the  Ancients  said, 

‘ O’ercome  these  frantic  imps  of  trade  ? 

Is  there  no  power  to  save  our  race 
From  war,  when  conquest  is  disgrace  ? ’ 
The  Greeks  then  call’d  on  Porson’s  name 
The  Latins  echoed  back  the  same  ; 

And  straight  in  Grecian  stole  array’d, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  373 

Appear’d  the  venerable  shade  ; 

Homer  went  down  upon  his  knees, 

And  so  did  Tragic  Sophocles, 

With  all  the  names  that  end  in  fjs . 

44 4 Hail,  sacred  tomes  ! ’ he  said,  4 to  you 
I grateful  ow’d  whate’er  I knew : 

From  you  I gain’d  my  mortal  fame, 

The  honours  of  a scholar’s  name  : 

To  you  the  immortal  power  I owe, 

To  give  the  aid  I now  bestow  : 

I come  from  that  Celestial  Hall, 

Where  they  all  dwell  who  wrote  you  all.’ 

He  spoke — and  lo  ! a Volume  came, 

Of  size  immense  and  rueful  name  : 

Its  back  no  verbal  title  bore  ; 

But  num’rous  dates  of  time  long  o’er  : 

While  on  its  letter’d  sides  appears 
4 London  Gazettes  for  Fifty  Years  ! ! ’ 
Straight  to  the  foe,  that,  all  aloof, 

Flutter’d  about  each  neighb’ring  roof, 

It  did  full  many  a page  unfold, 

And  show’d  and  cried,  4 Behold  \ * 

While  that  same  word  upon  the  walls 


374 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Blaz’d  forth  in  flaming  Capitals. 

312111)  erea  a,  a thousand  voices  rung, 

And  on  the  wing  there  upwards  sprung 
A flight  of  Dockets , who  were  join’d 
By  dire  Certificates  unsign’d: 

These  saw  the  foes,  and,  chill’d  with  dread, 
Trembled  and  shriek’d  aloud,  and  fled. 

“ The  Ghost  now  vanish’d  from  the  view 
The  bird  of  Pallas  vanish’d  too. 

And  then  I thought  the  Classic  elves 
Instinctive  sought  their  proper  shelves, 
Where,  undisturb’d,  each  learned  tome 
May  slumber  to  the  day  of  doom. 

I woke,  and  felt  a real  glee 
At  the  same  fancied  victory. 

Nor  would  I change  my  classic  lere, 

Poor  as  I am,  for  all  the  store 
Which  plodding  anxious  trade  can  give, 

In  constant  doubt  and  fear  to  live. 

My  treasures  are  all  well  secur’d, 

I want  them  not  to  be  insur’d  : 

My  Greek  and  Latin  are  immur’d 
Within  the  warehouse  of  my  brain, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  375 

And  there  in  safety  they  remain  : 

My  little  cargo’s  lodg’d  at  home, 

Where  storms  and  tempests  never  come. 

“ Learning  will  give  an  nnmix’d  pleasure, 
Which  gold  can’t  buy,  and  trade  can’t  measure ; 
But  each  within  its  destin’d  station  : 
Learning’s  my  pride  and  consolation  ; 

That  high-form’d  inmate  of  the  soul, 

Which,  as  the  changing  seasons  roll, 

Acquires  new  strength,  preserves  its  power, 
And  smiles  in  life’s  extremest  hour. 

The  learned  man,  let  who  will  flout  him, 

Doth  always  carry  it  about  him  ; 

And  should  he  idly  fail  to  use  it, 

Though  it  may  rust,  he  will  not  lose  it : 
Fortune  may  leave  off  her  caressing, 

But  she  can’t  rob  him  of  that  blessing. 

Full  many  a comfort  money  gives  ; 

But  ask  him  who  for  money  lives, 

Whether  he  other  pleasures  shares, 

Than  sordid  joys  and  golden  cares  ? 

“ How  oft  I’ve  pass’d  an  evening  hour 
Within  an  hawthorn’s  humble  bower, 


376 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


And  read  aloud  each  charming  line, 

That  doth  in  Virgil’s  Georgies  shine  ! 
Though  Wealth  pass’d  by  in  stately  guise. 
I felt  no  rankling  envy  rise  ; 

Nor  could  the  show  my  mind  engage 
From  the  immortal  poet’s  page. 

When  homeward  as  I us’d  to  stray, 

Along  the  unfrequented  way, 

Enraptur’d  as  I stroll’d  along, 

With  Philomela’s  evening  song, 

I felt  what  worldlings  never  share, — 
Oblivion  of  all  human  care  : 

Such  hours  are  few,  but  well  we  know, 
That  Learning  can  those  hours  bestow.” 

My  Lord  continued  the  debate  ; 

And  time  pass’d  on  in  pleasant  prate, 

Till  night  broke  up  the  tete-a-Ute . 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  377 


CANTO  XXYI. 

ROWN’D  with  success, 
the  following  day 
The  Doctor  homeward 
took  his  way ; 

And  on  the  morrow 
he  again 

Was  borne  by  Grizzle 
o’er  the  plain  ; 

But  Grizzle,  having  liv’d  in  clover, 
Symptoms  of  spirit  did  discover, 

That  more  than  once  had  nearly  thrown 
Her  deep-reflecting  master  down  ; 

Nor  till  they’d  travell’d  half  the  day, 

Did  he  perceive  he’d  lost  his  way : 

Nor,  to  that  moment,  did  he  find, 

That  Grizzle,  by  some  chance  unkind, 

Had  left  her  ears  and  tail  behind. 

“ Ne’er  mind,  good  beast,”  he  kindly  said  ; 


378 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ What,  though  no  ears  bedeck  your  head  ; 
What,  though  the  honours  of  your  rump 
Are  dwindled  to  a naked  stump, 

Now,  rais’d  in  purse  a3  well  as  spirit, 

Your  master  will  reward  your  merit.” 
Another  day  they  journey’d  on  ; 

The  next,  and  lo  ! the  work  was  done. 

Some  days  before,  (I  had  forgot 
To  say,)  a letter  had  been  wrote, 

To  tell  how  soon  he  should  appear, 

And  re-embrace  his  dearest  dear  ; 

But  not  one  solitary  word 
Of  his  good  fortune  he  preferr’d. 

“Yes,  home  is  home,  where’er  it  be, 

Or  shaded  by  the  village-tree, 

Or  where  the  lofty  domes  arise, 

To  catch  the  passing  stranger’s  eyes.” 
’Twas  thus  he  thought,  when,  at  the  gate, 
He  saw  his  Doll  impatient  wait ; 

Nor,  as  he  pass’d  the  street  along, 

Was  he  unnotic’d  by  the  throng  ; 

For  not  a head  within  a shop 


Fage  379. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE. 


379 


But  did  through  door  or  window  pop. 
He  kiss’d  his  dame,  and  gravely  spoke, 
As  now  he  brooded  o’er  a joke  ; 

While  she  to  know,  impatient  bum’d, 
With  how  much  money  he  return’d. 

“ Give  me  my  pipe,”  he  said,  “ and  ale, 
.And  in  due  time  you’ll  hear  the  tale.” 

He  sat  him  down  his  pipe  to  smoke, 
Look’d  sad,  and  not  a word  he  spoke  ; 
But  Madam  soon  her  speech  began, 
And  in  discordant  tones  it  ran  : — 

“ I think,  by  that  confounded  look, 
You  have  not  writ  your  boasted  book  ; 
Yes,  all  your  money  you  have  spent, 
And  come  back  poorer  than  you  went ; 
Yes,  you  have  wander’d  far  from  home, 
And  here  a beggar  you  are  come  ; 

But  bills  from  all  sides  are  in  waiting, 
To  give  your  Beverence  a baiting : 

I do  not  mean  to  scold  and  rail ; 

But  I’ll  not  live  with  you  in  jail. 

So  long  a time  you’ve  stay’d  away, 


380 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


That  the  Town-Curate  you  must  pay  ; 

For,  while  from  home  you  play’d  the  fool,  ’ 
He  kindly  came  to  teach  the  school ; 

And  a few  welcome  pounds  to  earn, 

By  flogging  boys  to  make  them  learn  : 

But  I must  say,  you  silly  elf ! 

You  merit  to  be  flogg’d  yourself ; 

And  I’ve  a mind  this  whip  shall  crack 
Upon  your  raw-bon’d  lazy  back. 

Yes,  puff  away — but  ’tis  no  joke 
For  all  my  schemes  to  end  in  smoke. 

What,  tongue-tied  booby  ! will  you  say 
' To  Mrs.  Dress’em  ? — Who  will  pay 
Her  bills  for  these  nice  clothes  ? — Why,  zounds'. 
It  borders  upon  twenty  pounds.” 

Thus,  as  she  vehemently  prated, 

And  the  delighted  Doctor  rated, 

From  a small  pocket  in  his  coat, 

He  unobserv’d  drew  forth  a note, 

And  throwing  it  upon  the  table, 

He  said,  “ My  dear,  you’ll  now  be  able 
To  keep  your  mantua-maker  quiet ; 

So  cease,  I beg,  this  idle  riot : 


Page  330. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  381 

And,  if  you’ll  not  make  such  a pother, 

I’ll  treat  you  with  its  very  brother  : 

Be  kind — and  I’ll  not  think  it  much 
To  show  you  half-a-dozen  such.” 

She  started  up  in  joy’s  alarms, 

And  clasp’d  the  Doctor  in  her  arms  ; 

Then  ran  to  bid  the  boys  huzza, 

And  gave  them  all  a holiday. 

“ Such  is  the  matrimonial  life,” 

Said  Syntax  ; — “ but  I love  my  wife. 

Just  now  with  horsewhip  I was  bother’d  ; 
And  now  with  hugging  I am  smother’d  ; 

But  wheresoe’er  I’m  doom’d  to  roam, 

I still  shall  say — that  home  is  home  ! ” 

Again  her  dear  the  Dame  caress’d, 

And  clasp’d  him  fondly  to  her  breast : 

At  length,  amidst  her  am’rous  play, 

The  Doctor  found  a time  to  say — 

“ The  fatted  calf  I trust  you’ve  slain, 

To  welcome  Syntax  home  again.” 

“ No,”  she  replied,  “ no  fatted  calf ; 


382 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


We  have  a better  thing  by  half ; 

For  with  expectation  big 
Of  your  return,  we  kill’d  a pig  ; 

And  a rich  haslet  at  the  fire, 

Will  give  you  all  you  can  desire  ; 

The  sav’ry  meat  myself  will  baste, 

And  suit  it  to  my  deary’s  taste.” 

“ That  dish,”  he  cried,  “ I’d  rather  see, 
Than  fricandeau  or  fricassee. 

Oh,”  he  continued,  “ what  a blessing, 

To  have  a wife  so  fond  of  dressing  ; 

Who  with  such  taste  and  skill  can  work, 
To  dress  herself,  and  dress  the  pork  ! ” 
She  now  return’d  to  household  care, 

The  dainty  supper  to  prepare. 

Whoe’er  has  pass’d  an  idle  hour, 

In  following  Syntax  through  his  Tour, 
Must  have  peroeiv’d  he  did  not  balk 
His  fancy,  when  he  wish’d  to  talk  : 

Nay,  more — that  he  was  often  prone 
To  make  long  speeches  when  alone  ; 
And  while  he  quaff’d  th’  inspiring  ale, 
Between  each  glass  to  tell  a tale  : 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  383 

Or,  as  lie  smok’d,  with  half-shut  eyes, 

Now  smiling,  and  now  looking  wise, 

He’d  crack  a joke,  or  moralise  : 

And  when  this  curious  spirit  stirr’d  him, 

He  minded  not  though  no  one  heard  him. 

This  he  did  now"— as  ’twill  appear  ; 

He  talk’d,  though  there  were  none  to  hear  ; 
When  the  whiffs  pass’d,  he  silence  broke, 

And  thus  he  thought,  and  puff’d,  and  spoke  : 

THE  SMOKING  SOLILOQUY. 

“ That  man,  I trow,  is  doubly  curst, 

Who  of  the  best  doth  make  the  worst ; 

And  he,  I’m  sure,  is  doubly  blest, 

Who  of  the  worst  can  make  the  best : 

To  sit  and  sorrow  and  complain, 

Is  adding  folly  to  our  pain. 

11  In  adverse  state  there  is  no  vice, 

More  mischievous  than  cowardice  ; 

’Tis  by  resistance  that  we  claim 
The  Christian’s  venerable  name. 

If  you  resist  him,  e’en  Old  Nick 


384 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Gives  up  his  meditated  trick  : 

Fortune  contemns  the  whining  slave, 

And  loves  to  smile  upon  the  brave. 

“ In  all  this  self-same  chequer’d  strife 
We  meet  with  in  the  road  of  life, 

Whate’er  the  object  we  pursue, 

There’s  always  something  to  subdue  ; 

Some  foe,  alas  ! to  evil  prone, 

In  others’  bosoms  or  our  own. 

That  man,  alone,  is  truly  great, 

Who  nobly  meets  the  frowns  of  Fate  ; 
Who,  when  the  threat’ning  tempests  lower, 
When  the  clouds  burst  in  pelting  shower, 
When  lightnings  flash  along  the  sky, 

And  thunders  growl  in  sympathy. 

With  calmness  to  the  scene  conforms, 

Nor  fears  nor  mocks  the  angry  storms  : 

He  does  not  run,  all  helter-skelter , 

To  seek  a temporary  shelter  ; 

Nor  does  he  fume,  and  fret,  and  foam, 
Because  he’s  distant  far  from  home ; 

For  well  he  knows,  each  peril  past, 

He’s  sure  to  find  a home  at  last 


IN  SEARCxi  OP  THE  PICTURESQUE.  385 

“ If  petty  evils  round  vou  swarm, 

Let  not  their  buzz  your  temper  warm, 

But  brush  them  from  your  mind  away, 

Like  insects  of  a summer’s  day. 

“ Evil  oppose  with  Beason’s  power, 

Nor  fear  the  dark  or  threat’ning  hour. 

Combat  the  world  ; — but,  as  5tis  fit, 

To  the  decrees  of  Heaven  submit. 

“ If  Spite  and  Malice  are  your  foes, 

If  fell  Bevenge  its  arrow  throws, 

Look  calmly  on,  nor  fear  the  dart ; 

Virtue  will  guard  the  honest  heart ; 

Nor  let  your  angry  spirit  burn 
The  pointed  missile  to  return. 

The  good  man  never  fails  to  wield 
A broad  and  strong  protecting  shield. 

That  will  preserve  him  through  the  strife 
Which  never  fails  to  trouble  life  ; 

And,  when  he  meets  his  fina  doom, 

Will  form  a trophy  for  his  tomb. 

“ Bear  and  forbear — a dogma  true 
As  human  wisdom  ever  drew. 

c c 


386 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


If  you  would  lighten  every  care, 

And  every  sorrow  learn  to  bear, 

To  be  secure  from  vile  disgrace, 

Look  frowning  Fortune  in  the  face  ; 

And,  if  the  foe’s  too  strong,  retreat, 

But  not  as  if  you  had  been  beat : 

Calmly  avoid  th’  o’erpow’ring  fray, 

Nor  fight  when  you  can  stalk  away  ; 

For  you  can  scarce  be  said  to  yield, 

If,  when  you  slowly  quit  the  field, 

You  so  present  yourself  to  view, 

That  a wise  foe  will  not  pursue. 

u I,  who  have  long  been  doom’d  to  drudge, 
Without  a patron  or  a judge  ; 

I,  who  have  seen  the  booby  rise 
To  dignified  pluralities  ; 

While  I his  flock  to  virtue  steer, 

For  hard-eam’d  thirty  pounds  a year  ; 

A flock,  alas  ! he  does  not  know, 

But  by  the  fleeces  they  bestow : 

I,  who  have  borne  the  heaviest  fate 
That  doth  on  learning’s  toil  await ; 

(For,  when  a man’s  the  sport  of  Heaven, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  387 

To  keep  a school  the  fellow’s  driven  ; 

Nor  when  that  thought  gay  Lucian  spoke, 

He  did  not  mean  to  crack  a joke  ; *) 

I still  man’s  dignity  maintain’d, 

And  though  I felt,  I ne’er  complain’d  ! 

“ If  Life’s  a farce,  mere  children’s  play, 

Let  the  rich  trifle  it  away  : 

I cannot  model  mine  by  their’s, 

For  mine  has  been  a life  of  cares. 

“ Men  with  superior  minds  endow’d 
May  soar  above  the  titled  crowd, 

Though  ’tis  their  humble  lot  to  dwell 
In  calm  retirement’s  distant  cell ; 

Or,  by  Dame  Fortune  poorly  fed, 

To  call  on  science  for  their  bread  ; 

To  lead  the  life  that  I have  led  : — 

Though  neither  wealth  nor  state  is  giv’n, 
They’re  the  Nobility  of  Heaven. 

i 

* Lucian  says,  that  when  the  Gods  make  a man  the  object  of 
their  sportive  persecutions,  they  turn  him  into  a schoolmaster. 
Such  an  one  as  Dr.  Syntax  was,  may  think,  that  the  sarcastic 
Greek  is  in  the  right ; but  the  Masters  of  Eton,  Westminster, 
and  Winchester  are,  probably,  of  a different  opinion. 

c c 2 


388 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ In  its  caprice  a sovereign’s  pow’r 
May  make  a noble  ev’ry  hour : 

A king  may  only  speak  the  word. 

And  some  rich  blockhead  struts  a lord  ; 
But  all  the  sceptred  powers  that  live 
Cannot  one  ray  of  genius  give. 

Heaven  and  Nature  must  combine 
To  make  the  flame  of  genius  shine  ; 

Of  wealth  regardless  or  degree, 

It  may  be  sent  to  shine  on  me. 

Learning,  I thank  thee  ! — though  by  toil 
And  the  pale  lamp  of  midnight  oil 
gain’d  thy  smiles  ; though  many  a year 
Fortune  refus’d  my  heart  to  cheer ; 

By  thy  inspiring  laurels  crown’d, 

I oft  could  smile  while  Fortune  frown’d ! 
Beguil’d  by  thee,  I oft  forgot 
My  uncomb’d  wig  and  rusty  coat : 

When  coals  were  dear,  and  low  my  fire, 

I warm’d  myself  with  Homer’s  lyre  : 

Or,  in  a dearth  of  ale  benign, 

I eager  quaff ’d  the  stream  divine, 

Which  flows  in  Virgil’s  ev’ry  line. 

To  save  me  from  domestic  brawls, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  389 

I thunder’d  Tully  to  the  walls  : 

When  nought  I did  could  Dolly  please, 

I laugh’d  with  Aristophanes, 

And  oft  has  Grizzle,  on  our  way, 

Heard  me  from  Horace  smart  and  gay. 

“ Though  with  the  world  I struggled  hard, 
Virtue  my  best  but  sole  reward  ; 

When  my  whole  income  could  but  keep 
The  wolf  from  preying  on  the  sheep  ; 

Ne’er  would  I change  my  classic  store 
For  all  that  Croesus  had,  or  more  ; 

Nor  would  I lose  what  I have  read, 

Though  tempting  Fortune  in  its  stead, 

Would  shower  down  mitres  on  my  head  ! 

“ Bear  and  forbear , — an  adage  true 
As  human  wisdom  ever  drew  ! 

That  this  I’ve  practis’d  through  my  life, 

I have  a witness  in  my  wife  ; 

For  though  she’d  sometimes  snarl  and  scold, 

I never  would  a parley  hold  ; 

And  when  she,  though  but  seldom,  swore, 

I checked  the  oath,  but  said  no  more, 

& nd  all  returning  taunts  forbore. 


390 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I dress’d  my  spirit  from  the  pages 
Of  learned  Dons  and  ancient  Sages  ; 

But  my  lean  form  was  never  smart 
From  barber’s  skill  or  tailor’s  art ; 

So  that  my  figure  was  a joke 
For  all  the  town  and  country  folk : 

But  this  my  feelings  never  griev’d, 

And  I with  smiles  their  smiles  receiv’d ; 

I ne’er  retorted,  like  a fool, 

Their  inoffensive  ridicule. 

So  that  my  Dolly’s  clothes  were  fine, 
She  never  car’d  a doit  for  mine  : 

So  that,  on  ev’ry  Sabbath  day, 

She  could  appear  in  trappings  gay, 

And  in  a pew  her  form  display, 

She’d  let  me  walk  about  the  town, 

Till  my  black  coat  was  almost  brown ; 
But  then  she  was,  I can’t  deny, 

The  soul  of  notability. 

She  struggled  hard  to  save  the  pelf ; 

And  though  she  might  except  herself, 

I do  believe,  upon  my  word, 

Tq  all  things  Syntax  was  referr’d. 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  391 

“ j Bear  and  forbear , I’ve  thought  and  said, 
Is  part  of  ev’ry  parson’s  trade  ; 

And  what  he  doth  to  others  preach, 

He  should  by  his  example  teach. 

Whene’er  the  scoffer  trotted  by, 

I ne’er  have  turn’d  an  angry  eye  : 

Nay,  when  of  wealth  I’ve  been  the  jeer, 
When  petty  pride  let  loose  a sneer, 

I never  fail’d  the  joke  to  join, 

And  paid  them  off  in  classic  coin. 

" My  Rector,  fat  as  fat  can  be, 

With  prebend  stall,  and  livings  three, 

Once  told  me,  if  I kept  my  riches 
Within  the  pockets  of  my  breeches, 

To  make  them  of  materials  stout, 

Or  else  the  weight  would  wear  them  out. 

Oh,  with  what  base  irreverent  glee 
He  chose  to  mock  my  poverty  ! 

Yet  I did  not  my  cloth  disgrace 
By  squirting  spittle  in  his  face  : 

But  answer’d  from  St.  Paul,  in  Greek, 

And  bid  him  the  quotation  seek 
In  Pliny  : — When  the  purse-proud  brute 
Nodded  assent — and  then  was  mute. 


392 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“ The  Oilman  there,  in  that  fine  house, 
Who  boasts  th’  escutcheons  of  his  spouse, 
Soon  after  he  had  left  off  trade, 

Lov’d  some  great  noble  lady’s  maid, 

Who  by  my  Lord  had  been  betray’d  : 

To  Hymen’s  fane  the  fair  he  led, 

And  gave  the  claim  to  half  his  bed : 

She  talks  of  duchesses  by  dozens, 

As  if  they  were  her  cater-cousins. 

He  once  said — ‘ Doctor,  do  you  see  ? 

Let’s  hear  what  is  your  pedigree  — 
When  I with  rev’rence  due  replied, 

1 1 am  not  to  the  great  allied ; 

But  yet  I’ve  heard  my  grandame  say, 
(Though  many  a year  has  pass’d  away 
Since  she  has  gone  where  all  must  go, 
Whether  they  have  been  high  or  low,) 
That  one  of  our  forefathers  bore 
A place  of  state  in  days  of  yore. 

That  he  was  butler  or  purveyor, 

Or  trumpeter  to  some  Lord  Mayor, 

When  Carthagenian  Hannibal 
Din’d  with  his  Lordship  at  Guildhall : 
That  great  man  being  forc’d  to  come, 

By  order  of  the  Pope  of  Borne, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  393 

To  end  some  quarrel  Tween  the  houses 
That  bore  the  pale  and  crimson  roses.’ 

The  Oilman  said,  ‘ It  might  be  so  ; 

And  ’twas  a monstrous  while  ago.’ 

“ ’Tis  thus  I give  these  fools  a poke, 

And  foil  their  taunUings  with  a joke  ; 

For  that  man  has  no  claim  to  sense, 

Whose  blood  boils  at  impertinence. 

Were  I to  scourge  each  fool  I meet, 

I ne’er  must  go  into  the  street ; 

I ne’er  my  bearded  head  must  pop 
Into  the  chatt’ring  barber’s  shop. 

4<  Bear  and  forbear — a maxim  true 
As  erring  mortals  ever  knew. 

But  things  are  chang’d  ; new  scenes  appear, 
My  mind  to  soothe,  my  heart  to  cheer ; 

The  Pow’rs  above  my  fate  regard, 

And  give  my  patience  its  reward. 

But  while  I trod  life’s  rugged  road, 

While  troubles  haunted  my  abode, 

With  not  an  omen  to  portend 

That  toil  would  cease,  that  things  would  mend. 


394 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


I did  to  my  allotment  bow, 

And  smok’d  my  pipe  as  I do  now. 

“ Hail,  social  tube  ! thou  foe  to  care  ! 
Companion  of  my  easy  chair  ! 

Form’d  not,  with  cold  and  Stoic  art ! 

To  harden,  but  to  soothe  the  heart ! 

For  Bacon,  a much  wiser  man 
Than  any  of  the  Stoic  clan, 

Declares  thy  power  to  control 
Each  fretful  impulse  of  the  soul ; 

And  Swift  has  said,  (a  splendid  name, 

On  the  large  sphere  of  mortal  fame,) 

That  he  who  daily  smokes  two  pipes, 

The  tooth-ache  never  has — nor  gripes. 

With  these,  in  silence  calm  and  still, 

My  Dolly’s  tones,  no  longer  shrill, 

Though  meant  to  speak  reproach  and  sneer, 
Pass’d  in  soft  cadence  to  my  ear. 

Calm  Contemplation  comes  with  thee, 

And  the  mild  maid, — Philosophy  ! 

Lost  in  the  thoughts  which  you  suggest 
To  the  full  counsel  of  my  breast, 

My  books  all  slumb’ring  on  the  shelf, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  395 

I thus  can  commune  with  myself ; 

Thus  to  myself  my  thoughts  repeat ; 

Thus  moralize  on  what  is  great, 

And,  ev’ry  selfish  wish  subdu’d, 

Cherish  the  sense  of  what  is  good. 

“ While  I thy  grateful  breath  inhale, 

I see  the  cheering  cup  of  ale  ; 

Benignant  juice  ! Lethean  stream  ! 

That  aids  the  fond  oblivious  dream, 

Which  fits  the  freshen’d  mind  to  bear 
The  burden  of  returning  care. 

“ Let  Pride’s  loose  sons  prolong  the  night 
In  Bacchanalian  delight ; 

I envy  not  their  jovial  noise, 

Their  mirth,  and  mad  intemp’rate  joys. 

The  luscious  wines  that  Spain  can  boast, 

Or  grow  on  Lusitanian  coast, 

Ne’er  filled  my  cups  : — * Bepast  divine  ! 

* Mea  nec  Falernse 

Temperant  vites,  neque  Formiani 
Pocula  colles. 


Hor.  L.  i.  Od.  xx. 


396 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


The  home-brew*  d beverage  is  mine. 

Thus,  cheer’d  with  hopes  of  happier  days, 
My  grateful  lips  declare  thy  praise. 

How  oft  I’ve  felt,  in  adverse  hour, 

The  comforts  of  thy  soothing  power  ! 

Nor  will  I now  forget  my  friend, 

When  my  foul  fortune  seems  to  mend  : 
Yes,  I would  smoke  as  I do  now, 

Though  a proud  mitre  deck’d  my  brow. 

" Hail,  social  tube  ! thou  foe  to  care  ! 
Companion  of  my  easy  chair  ! 

While,  as  the  curling  fumes  arise, 

They  seem  th’  ascending  sacrifice 
That’s  offer’d  by  my  gratitude 
To  the  Great  Father  of  the  good.” 

More  had  he  spoke  : but,  lo  ! the  Dame 
With  the  appointed  haslet  came 
When  Syntax,  having  bless’ d the  meat, 

Sat  down  to  the  luxuriant  treat. 

“ And  now,”  he  said,  “ my  dear,  ’twdll  be 
As  good  as  Burgundy  to  me, 

If  you  will  tell  me  what  has  pass’d 
Since  we  embrac’d  each  other  last.” 


in  Search  of  the  picturesque. 


“ Oh,”  she  replied,  “ my  dearest  love, 
Things  in  their  usual  order  move. 

Pray  take  a piece  of  this  fine  liver  : 

The  Rector  is  as  proud  as  ever. 

Ill  help  you  dear,  to  this  or  that ; 

Let  me  supply  your  lean  with  fat. — 

I thought  the  Oilman’s  wife  would  burst, 
When  in  this  dress  she  saw  me  first ; 

It  was  at  church  she  show’d  her  airs  ; 

My  bonnet  spoil’d  the  woman’s  prayers. 
Your  knife  is  blunt ; here,  take  the  steel 
Cut  deep — the  haslet  cannot  feel. — 
There’s  Lawyer  Graspall  got  a beating, 
As  you  may  well  suppose, — for  cheating  : 
Our  honest  butcher  trounc’d  him  well, 

As  the  attorney’s  bones  can  tell. 

He  order’d  home  a rump  of  beef ; 

And  when  it  came,  the  hungry  thief, 
Having  shav’d  off  a pound  or  two 
Return’d  it,  for  it  would  not  do. 

The  fraud  discover’d,  words  arose, 

And  they  were  follow’d  soon  by  blows  : 
When,  as  he  well  deserv’d,  the  sinner 
Got  a good  thrashing  for  his  dinner.” 


398 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Said  Syntax,  “ If  I had  a son,” — 

“ Pooh  ! ” she  replied,  “ you  have  not  done  : 
You  still,  I hope,  can  pick  a bit, 

And  no  excuse  will  I admit. 

’Tis  long  since  we’ve  together  been  ; 

Since  we’ve  each  other’s  faces  seen  ; 

And  surely,  I’m  not  such  a fright 
To  make  you  lose  your  appetite.” 

“ But,”  he  continued,  “if  a boy 
Were,  my  dear  Doll,  to  crown  our  joy, 

I’d  sooner,  far,  the  stripling  see 
The  heir  of  dire  Adversity, 

Than  to  a dire  Attorney  bind  him, 

Where  Old  Nick  is  sure  to  find  him.” 

She  added — “ Yes,  with  naked  feet 
I’d  sooner  have  him  pace  the  street ; 

But  ere  you  let  your  choler  burst, 

Let’s  have  the  little  urchin  first.” 

The  Doctor  thought  his  jolly  wife 
Ne’er  look’d  so  handsome  in  her  life. 

Her  voice  he  thought  grown  wond’rous  sweet ; 
To  him  a most  uncommon  treat, 

So  much  in  tune,  it  made  him  long 


IK  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  399 

To  hear  it  quaver  in  a song. 

“ Come,  sing,  my  charmer, ; ” Syntax  said  ; 
And  thus  the  simp’ring  dame  obey’d. 

SONG. 

“ Haste  to  Dolly  ! haste  away  ! 

This  is  thine  and  Hymen’s  day  ! 

Bid  her  thy  soft  bondage  wear  ; 

Bid  her  for  Love’s  rites  prepare. 

Let  the  nymphs,  with  many  a flower, 
Deck  the  sacred  nuptial  bower  ; 

Thither  lead  the  lovely  fair, 

And  let  Cupid,  too,  be  there. 

This  is  thine  and  Hymen’s  day  ! 

Haste  to  Dolly  ! haste  away  ! ” 

Thus  pass’d  the  time  ; the  morrow  came, 
And  Mrs.  Syntax  was  the  same : 

But  when  (for  ’twas  not  done  before) 

She  heard  the  Doctor’s  story  o’er, 

With  all  the  hopes  he  had  in  store  ; 

By  joy,  by  vanity  subdu’d, 

Her  warm  embraces  she  renew’d  ; 

While  he,  delighted,  fondly  kiss’d 


400 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Those  hands  which,  form’d  into  a fist, 
Had  often  warn’d  his  eyes  and  nose 
To  turn  from  their  tremendous  blows. 

At  length,  of  golden  ease  possest, 
No  angry  words,  no  frowns,  molest ; 
No  symptoms  of  domestic  strife 
Disturb’d  their  very  alter’d  life, — 
For  she  out-dress’d  the  Oilman’s  wife 
And  he  could  now  relieve  the  poor, 
Who  sought  his  charitable  door. 

Though  to  each  virtue  often  blind, 
The  world  to  wealth  is  ever  kind  ; 
For  lo  ! a certain  tell-tale  dame, 
Yclep’d  and  known  as  Mistress  Fame , 
Had  told  to  all  the  country  round, 
That  Syntax,  for  a thousand  pound, 
Had  sold  a learned  book  he  wrote  ; 
That  now  he  was  a man  of  note, 

By  lords  protected  ! and  that  one 
Would  make  him  tutor  to  his  son  : 

So  that,  whenever  he  went  forth, 

All  paid  their  homage  to  his  worth  ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  401 

While  it  became  the  fond  desire 
Of  ev’ry  neighb’ring  rural  ’squire 
To  send  his  hopeful  boys  to  share 
The  favour  of  the  Doctor’s  care. 

But  all  these  views  soon  found  an  end : 

A packet  came,  and  from  a friend, 

From  ’Squire  Worthy,  who  resides 
On  Keswick’s  bold  and  woody  sides. 

The  wond’ring  postman  made  it  known, 

As  he  pass’d  on,  to  all  the  town  ; 

For  such  a letter  ne’er  had  been 
Within  his  little  circuit  seen  : 

Nay,  by  the  fiat  of  the  post, 

It  more  than  seven  shillings  cost. 

The  Doctor  star’d — while  Ma’am  unwilling, 
Slowly  drew  forth  each  ling’ring  shilling 
4<  Ne’er  mind  your  silver,”  Syntax  said, 

“ The  postman,  Deary,  must  be  paid  ; 

And  now  these  papers  I behold, 

I see  they’re  worth  their  weight  in  gold  . 
Gome,  sit  you  down,  and  take  good  heed 
To  what  I’m  now  about  to  read : ” — 


D D 


4052 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


“Good  Rev’rend  Sir, 

Our  Vicars  dead. 

And  I have  nam’d  you  in  his  stead. 

I often  wish’d  his  neck  he’d  break, 

Or  tumble  drunk  into  the  Lake  ; 

So,  you  must  know  the  poaching  hound 
Fulfill’d  one  wish — for  he  is  drown’d. 
Unfit  for  preaching  or  for  praying, 

His  merit  lay  in  cudgel-playing  : 

And  he  preferr’d,  to  saying  prayers 
The  laying  springes  for  the  hares. 

“ You  will  perceive  I keep  my  word, 
And  to  this  church  you’re  now  preferr’d 
By  ev’ry  legal  act  and  deed, 

To  parson  Harebrain  you  succeed  : 

The  papers  which  you  now  receive 
A right  and  full  possession  give. 

You,  Sir,  may  make  the  living  clear 
Above  three  hundred  pounds  a year  ; 
And  if  you  will  but  condescend 
To  my  son’s  learning  to  attend  ; 

If  you’ll  direct  his  studious  hour, 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  403 


I’ll  add  some  fifty  pounds  or  more  : 

Nay,  soon  we  hope  that  you  will  cheer 
The  parish  with  your  presence  here. 

Miss  Worthy  and  her  sister  join 
Their  kindest  compliments  to  mine  ; 

And  to  your  prayers  I recommend 
Your  faithful  and  admiring  friend, 

Jonathan  Worthy.” 

The  dame  exclaim’d,  “ My  Grecian  boy  ! 
I know  not  how  to  tell  my  joy. 

This  is  the  height  of  my  desire  : — 

’Squire  Worthy  is  a worthy  ’Squire.” 

“ Ha,  ha  ! ” said  Syntax,  “ Oh,  the  fun  ! 
Why,  Dolly,  you  have  made  a pun  : 

But  still  a pun  I do  detest, 

’Tis  such  a paltry,  humbug  jest ; 

They  who’ve  least  wit  can  make  them  best 
But  you  may  frisk  and  pun  away  ; 

I’m  sure  I cannot  teach  to-day, 

So  tell  the  boys  to  go  and  play. 

Thank  Heaven,  that  toil  and  trouble  past, 
My  holidays  are  come  at  last ! ” 

D D 2 


404 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


At  length,  the  busy  school  resign’d, 
They  both  rejoic’d  to  leave  behind 
A place  which  little  had  to  give, 

Than  the  hard  struggle  how  to  live. 

For  the  long  journey  to  prepare, 

Syntax  had  bought  a one-horse  chair, 
With  harness  for  the  grizzle-mare. 

Ralph  would  not  from  his  master  part, 
But  trudg’d  beside  the  trav’ling  cart 
That  bore  the  Doctor’s  books  and  chattels, 
With  Madam’s  clothes  and  fiddle-faddles : 
The  cook  upon  the  baggage  rode, 

And  added  to  the  weighty  load  ; 

For  she,  kind  maid  ! was  fully  bent 
To  go  wherever  Ralpho  went. 

The  Doctor  walk’d  about  to  tell 
The  day  when  he  should  say — farewell ! 
And  they  who  had  disdain’d  before 
To  pass  the  threshold  of  his  door, 

When  Syntax  gave  his  farewell  treat, 
Sought  that  same  door,  to  drink  and  eat. 
The  neighbours  now,  who  never  yet 
Knew  his  great  worth,  his  loss  regret ; 
While  Madam,  on  whom  no  good  word 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  405 

Had  been,  throughout  the  town,  preferr’d, 
Was  now  a most  delightful  creature, 

Of  temper  mild,—  of  winning  feature. 

The  ringers,  who,  for  many  a year, 

Kefus’d  his  natal  day  to  cheer, 

Now  made  the  bells,  in  woful  zeal, 

Chime  forth  the  dumb,  lamenting  peal. 

The  time  soon  came,  when,  quite  light-hearted, 
The  Doctor  and  his  spouse  departed  : 

And  as  they  journey’d  on  their  way, 

They  did  not  fail  to  pass  a day 
At  Oxford,  with  his  early  friend, 

The  kind  and  learned  Dicky  Bend . 

Nor  did  he  think  it  a delay, 

The  Christian  Yicar  to  repay, 

And  ’neath  his  roof  a night  to  stay  ; 

To  add,  for  former  kindness  shown, 

His  Dolly’s  greeting  to  his  own. 

At  York  they  also  form’d  the  party, 

For  a whole  week,  of  ’Squire  Hearty. 

A few  days  more,  and,  lo  ! the  Lake 
Did  on  th’  enraptur’d  vision  break  : 

When,  rising  ’mid  the  tufted  trees, 


406 


TOUR  OF  DOCTOR  SYNTAX 


Syntax  his  sacred  structure  sees. 

Whose  tow’r  appear’d  in  ancient  pride, 

With  the  warm  vic’rage  by  its  side. 

" At  length,  dear  wife,”  he  said,  “ we’re  come 
To  our  appointed  tranquil  home.” 

The  courteous  people  line  the  way, 

And  their  rude,  untaught  homage  pay  : 

The  foremost  of  the  assembled  crowd, 

The  fat  Exciseman,  humbly  bow’d  ; 

" Welcome,”  he  said,  “ to  Sommerden  ! ” 
The  Clerk  stood  by,  and  cried  “ Amen  ! ” 
Grizzle  dash’d  boldly  through  the  gate, 
Where  the  kind  ’Squire  and  ladies  wait, 
With  kind  embrace,  with  heart  and  hand, 

To  cheer  them  into  Cumberland. 

The  bells  rang  loud,  the  boys  huzza’d  ; 

The  bonfire  was  in  order  laid  ; 

The  villagers  their  zeal  display, 

And  ale  and  crackers  close  the  day. 

Syntax,  whom  all  desir’d  to  please, 
Enjoyed  his  hours  of  learned  ease  ; 

Nor  did  he  fail  to  preach  and  pray, 

To  brighter  worlds  to  point  the  way ; 


IN  SEARCH  OF  THE  PICTURESQUE.  407 


While  his  dear  spouse  was  never  seen 
To  show  ill-nature  or  the  spleen  ; 

And  faithful  Grizzle  now  no  more 
Or  drew  a chaise,  or  rider  bore.  . 


Thus  the  good  Parson,  Horse,  and  Wife, 
Led  a most  comfortable  life. 


' ■ 


